


Friendship Amidst Loss

by KimicThranduilion



Series: Tales of Friendship [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 182,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5553029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimicThranduilion/pseuds/KimicThranduilion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Legolas and his troop become targets for slave traders tragedy strikes and the Prince suffers a devastating loss after a series of savage attacks. Longstanding rivals put feuds to bed, old friendships stand strong and new ones are forged but can friends reconciled, old and new help Legolas in the aftermath? </p>
<p>Disclaimer: I own nothing besides my OCs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Celegil whistled short, quick and sharp as she mimicked the call of a crow. Legolas gave a small smile of relief and whistled his answer in return also mimicking the sound of the crow – for the calls of these birds would not arouse suspicions of anything unfriendly hiding in the woods – as crows were long known to be spies of the Dark One.

Satisfied now Legolas turned to face those of his warriors who remained with him, "Celegil has given us the go ahead, the path is clear – let us move out."

It did not take long for the troop to mount their horses and make for the small path out of the clearing for they were anxious to be on the move and leave this place behind. Legolas could hardly blame them – they had been on Mirkwood's most demanding patrols for just over two months and it had certainly felt longer.

The Southern Patrol was like no other patrol embarked upon by the warriors of Mirkwood. It was hard, harsh and demanding and as such each troop only did it for two months at a time compared to the standard three months for all other patrols in the Kingdom. The warriors of Mirkwood were tough and faced deadly peril on nearly all their patrols but not nearly as much as they did when on the Southern Patrol.

Orcs, wargs and the spawn of Ungoliant were especially numerous in this part of the woods and the elves faced daily battle and skirmishes with these fell creatures doing their utmost to keep them from taking over anymore of the lands than they already had. The Southern patrols were usually based in an area called the Narrows of the Forest – a grim and gloomy part of the woods where the trees were asleep and deaf to the calls of the elves. It was as far as they could get to the dread dungeons of Dol Guldur without placing themselves in mortal danger. Nonetheless despite this area being relatively safe no elf was ever sad to leave and Legolas and his _dírnaith_ were no exception.

Legolas watched with satisfaction and no small amount of relief as the last of his elves left the clearing that had been home for the past two months – though no one would think that to look at it now. For the troop had been careful to leave no trace that they had been here at all. They would meet the next troop to take up the Southern Patrol the next day somewhere along the road on the way back to Thranduil's stronghold. This was unusual as usually one troop arrived before the other left but their replacements had been delayed by first a skirmish with a cluster of spiders and then by a freak lightning storm which had set fire to a few trees around one of the outer elvish villages and the troop had stopped to help the inhabitants put out the fires and repair the damage.

Therefore Legolas and his troop had stayed in place for an extra two weeks and were by now itching to leave. In the end Legolas himself had made the call for them to leave before the other group of warriors showed up. He had seen the despair on the faces of his _maethyr_ when the message came via carrier hawk with news of the other troop's further delays. He had said they would give them another two days and if they were still not here then they would leave and meet and de-brief the other troop on the road. Legolas was tired and he knew his warriors were too.

For that was another thing that came with doing the Southern Patrol – the bone aching weariness and slowly crushing despair. Enchantments of the Dark One and his minions hung heavy in the air in this area and it slowly worked its poison into the minds of the elves on patrol here – it was another reason patrols here were relatively short – elves could easily slip and give into the mind numbing despair when faced with the foul, darkly enchanted air for too long a period of time.

Legolas glanced round him once more and satisfied he leapt up and perched himself upon the back of Morchant.

"Come boy we leave this place now. Let us catch up to the others." Legolas gave his horse a fond pat on his midnight black rump and Morchant started after the others at a trot.

Legolas gave into a sigh and gave a small smile – finally they were on the way home. He touched his left shoulder briefly before dropping his hand to his side. He had another reason for leaving early besides his troops happiness but he was not about to discuss it with anyone. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the gentle swaying rhythm of being upon horse back. Legolas trusted Morchant and knew he could rest his eyes as his animal was smart – he did not need Legolas' guidance – he knew the way home and was as keen to get there as his master.

"Sleeping already my prince? Will you not wait for your soft warm bed back at the palace?"

Legolas merely grunted too tired to rise to his friends bait. He kept his eyes closed and upturned his face in a vain attempt to feel the early morning sun upon it. He had no luck of course for they were still in a far too gloomy part of the Kingdom, where the canopy grew so densely the sun hardly ever penetrated, or any other element for that matter – even the rain simply trickled down the bark of the trees to form small pools at their feet. Legolas suppressed a shiver at the thought and kept his eyes closed determined to have a moment's peace.

Faervel was not so easily put off by his friends supposed indifference though and he continued chattering to Legolas about this, that and nothing at all as they made their way to where Celegil and Thoron had scouted ahead and now awaited the rest of the troop.

After another jibe at his friends expense fell on deaf ears Faervel took a closer look at his friend. Legolas looked pale – well paler than was his wont – and tired. Faint dark circles could be seen under his eyes. He had lost weight (which was not uncommon for warriors on the Southern Patrol) but the thing that had Faervel most worried was the way Legolas was sitting upon Morchant.

Legolas had fine and proper posture as a rule due to Thranduil's strict training, however now Legolas sat slightly slouched and leaned towards the left, crouching in on himself ever so slightly. Faervel frowned, he knew Legolas was not as hale as he was making out but his friend was stubborn and could be as unmovable as a mountain range when he wanted to be. Legolas had insisted that he was fine to make the long trip back home and there had been no convincing him otherwise.

Faervel continued to study his friend and Legolas continued to ignore the scrutiny – yes he was a bit tired but so was everyone else. Faervel could be such a mother hen. Could he not just leave him in peace? Legolas knew that his friend knew there was more to it than mere fatigue but he would not give in. Legolas kept his eyes closed and willed himself to think of pleasant things in order to distract himself from Faervel's heavy gaze.

He had been imagining eating the heavenly blueberry pie Thanniel always made him upon his returns whilst in the tub (something Thranduil strongly disapproved of but Legolas found relaxing) when Morchant suddenly slipped on a slick of mud. The horse quickly regained his balance and righted his steps but it was enough to unbalance Legolas whose eyes flew open and his right hand shot out in a vain attempt to grab at Morchant's neck, mane or anything at all. He missed and found himself on the cold ground with a thud landing on his left shoulder. Damn why that shoulder?

Morchant reared up sharply at the lack of master on his back and turned round to look at Legolas who was currently wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. For it was not just the curious eyes of his horse upon him but that of all his _maethyr_. _Ai_ _Elbereth_ why? Legolas sprung up quickly but not quickly enough to stop half his warriors leaping off their own mounts and rushing over to him concern clear upon their faces.

"Captain are you ok?"

" _Hest_ Legolas _manen le_?"

"Legolas are you well – what is wrong?" This last from Faervel who was now rather annoyingly close and attempting to check him over.

Legolas brushed him off and waved away the concerns of his warriors, " _Avaro naeth im maer_."

His warriors reluctantly mounted again with one or two still throwing him concerned looks. Legolas waited until they had started moving again before he whispered for Morchant to kneel so he could mount. He was annoyed he had to do this but the fall had hurt him more than he wanted to admit. Of course Faervel was there strong hands steadying him as he perched himself back upon Morchant. His horse whickered softly checking his master was ok before moving off again.

Faervel drew up alongside Legolas on his own horse, "Legolas please tell me are you hurt?"

Legolas breathed out slowly trying to ignore the throbbing in his left shoulder. He longed to cradle it to his chest to keep it from being jostled but he refrained – Faervel would nag him to death if he knew how much his shoulder hurt. He also needed to be strong for his _maethyr_ – he wanted to show no further weakness in front of them.

"Las please" Faervel drew his horse to a stop forcing Legolas to either stop as well or ignore him and carry on.

Legolas gave in with a sigh – he could not ignore Faervel when he was like this.

"What is it Faervel?"

"Tell _me_ the truth if you will tell no one else. Your shoulder pains you still does it not? It was not as healed as you made out and this fall has just made it worse hasn't it?"

Legolas looked at his friend but despite his accusatory tone Legolas could see only worry in his eyes. He sighed again, "It was still a bit tender yes but we could not stay there any longer. Now come we are falling too far behind."

With that Legolas gave Morchant a light tap and the horse cantered off down the gloomy path eager to catch up to the others. Faervel followed with a frown still firmly in place upon his fair face.

**~o~**

The troop carried on, meeting with Celegil and Thoron who had gone ahead and scouted out the path that would lead to a clearing where they would camp for the night. They continued chattering softly amongst themselves, more than a few still throwing their Captain worried looks. Legolas rode on oblivious, eyes closed again but his right hand had a firm grip upon Morchant whilst he and Faervel brought up the rear. They were all so pre-occupied either with worried thoughts of their Captain or thoughts of getting to their camp site before dark, and with their senses still slightly dulled by the foul enchanted air none noticed the unfriendly eyes watching them from the brush.

**~o~**

Elias held his breath and waited until the last elf passed him by. He waited a few more minutes once they were out of sight before he gingerly left his hiding place amongst the bushes. He hadn't meant to get as close as he did to the elves but their path had taken them very close to his hiding place, very close indeed.

Elias half felt as if he ought to give a quick prayer of thanks to the Valar for spearing him from the wrath of those pointy eared freaks – 'twas a shame he didn't believe the Valar existed. Nonetheless he was still quite surprised none of the elves had noticed him. They had unnaturally sharp senses and when he had seen them coming so near to his hiding spot he had made his peace with the world in anticipation of his death.

The elves here were feral – or so tales were told – and Elias was certain they would cut his neck when they laid hands upon him. Yet they had passed by without giving the merest sign that they knew he was there. His near brush with the elves really was a blessing – for he now knew exactly where they were headed thanks to their whisperings about the camp they were to set up for the night. Elias grinned in glee, all was going to plan and he could not wait to give the good news to the Captain. Maybe that would mellow out the sour old so and so.

Deciding he was safe Elias begun to make his way back to give his report to his Captain being careful to disturb the forest as little as possible – it would not do to be careless now. The last thing he wanted was for those elves to hear him stumbling through the woods and chase after him. Elias picked his way near silently through the forest feeling very glad for once he had been taken in and raised a Ranger of the North.

**TBC.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see a little more of our baddies and Legolas is still feeling a bit rough.

Legolas was struggling. The dull throb in his arm had settled down to a constant burn that hurt worse when he moved his arm. He hung back taking up the rear position with Faervel leaving Aithel his second in command to take the lead. At least that was how he hoped it looked – truthfully Legolas was scared his troop would notice the slouched way he was sitting in an attempt to protect his left arm without cradling it to him. He was known for his perfect, princely posture after all. Just one hour more and they should be near the spot Celegil and Thoron had picked out for them to spend the night. Legolas closed his eyes again – he could hardly wait.

**~o~**

Faervel watched as his friend's eyes slid shut again. Damn Legolas and his accursed stubbornness – Faervel knew his Prince was unwell – for as fast as elves healed even they had trouble with the poison of Ungoliant's spawn and Faervel knew that this was what still bothered his friend.

For a mere four days ago Legolas had been bitten by a spider. The troop had just finished their last round for the night and were about to head back to their camp when the creatures had attacked seemingly from all sides. The battle was sudden, fierce and brutal – the spiders had been determined to have elf for their dinner that night. However they had not bargained for a troop more than ready to lash out and take out their frustrations at still being on the Southern Patrol upon them.

The spiders had been decimated but not before the leader of the cluster, a particularly hairy and ugly beast, had stung Legolas square in his left shoulder. Legolas had continued to fight the bite not even registering as his body was full of adrenalin. It was Faervel who had first noticed that anything was wrong – after Legolas kept stumbling around as they tried to dispose of the spider bodies in an efficient and quiet manner – Legolas was anything but quiet as he tripped over this and bumped into that.

Faervel being the troop's chief healer had immediately pulled him to the side before looking into his eyes. Legolas' pupils were blown wide – a common side effect of the spider poison – and Faervel had then proceeded to check him over finally finding the bite on his left shoulder.

Legolas had then been a fever ridden, shaking and shivering mess for the next two days as his body fought against the poison within it. They had had to gag him so that he would not cry out in his delirium and bring down the Dark Ones creatures upon them. The entire episode had taken its toll on a troop stretched by being in the foul area of the Southern part of the Kingdom for too long. That was why two days after being bitten when Legolas had seemed in his right mind and to be doing lots better the troop were over joyed. They were especially happy when he had said that they were to leave the very next day and meet their replacements on the road.

Faervel had been unconvinced and had tried to argue with Legolas to stay put until the other troop came to relieve them. He did not think that Legolas was recovered enough to make the long trip home. Yet his friend and Captain had remained firm arguing with him privately that staying and being around the darkness and breathing in the foul air that came with the Southern Patrol would do nothing to help him heal fully. Faervel could not argue with that – and beside Legolas was his Captain – his word was law.

And so here they were now with Legolas clearly struggling to stay upright and awake on his horse leaving the lead to Aithel. Faervel fought the urge to shake his head. It wasn't that Aithel was incapable of taking the lead from her Captain when the need arose – oh no for she was more than able – it was just that Legolas still needed at least another two days' rest in Faervel's professional opinion. He was not ready for this trip as yet.

Faervel looked up sensing another's gaze upon him and saw that Aithel was giving him an inquiring look – a look that asked how their Captain fared. Faervel glanced over at Legolas taking his pale and now sweat sheened appearance. He turned to face Aithel again giving a curt shake of his head. No their Captain was not faring well at all.

**~o~**

Elias came to the clearing where the village of woodsmen was. Despite his considerable skill at moving near soundlessly through the forest he still felt thankful that he had put considerable distance between himself and those elves.

Suppressing a shiver at the mere thought of the elves Elias squared his shoulders and strolled into the village. It was getting towards sunset now and there were just a few village women shuffling about their business before darkness fell. A few looked up at him but quickly turned their backs or cast their eyes downwards not looking at him for any amount of time. They all moved in a fearful manner – hunched over, eyes cast down, jumping at the slightest sounds. Elias grinned – he felt powerful as he strode through the village making his way to what was once the chieftain's house. He enjoyed their fear and was glad that he had played a part in turning these once proud woods people into people near afraid of their own shadow.

Two weeks ago Elias' Captain, Elias himself and a group of travelling bandits had snuck into this village – one of only two villages of men King Thranduil permitted in his realm - and seized power. Brutally. They had slaughtered any woodsman who had tried to take a stand and had threatened their women with rape and murder forcing the remaining men to bend to their will. They had chain ganged the men and forced them to chop wood and haul water daily under heavy guard. The women they forced to cook, clean and take care of them – some were forced into bed.

Elias shrugged mentally – that wasn't personally to his taste he was merely in this for the money but some of the other men he travelled with were base. He simply put up with them as he was well paid by their Captain – very well paid indeed. His skills in scouting, spying and moving about as if a ghost were highly prized by his Captain and for this Elias was glad. His Captain, Aldred, was an unstable man prone to sudden fits of pique and fury – particularly if he did not get his way or if he felt someone had stepped out of line. Elias was spared from being punished for most of his sins by Aldred purely because the man valued his skills so much. Skills he had spent nearly all of his life learning.

Elias forcefully pushed memories of his past life away as he rapped out a quick coded knock on the wooden door before him – he would _not_ think of those times.

The door cracked open an inch suspicious eyes peering at him before the door was swung open fully.

"Ah Elias the Captain has been waiting for you."

Elias nodded at the other man – Blacwin – a man who constantly looked world weary, bored and generally dissatisfied with life. Elias did not particularly like him – though he had far more decency than most of the other scum in this troop.

"I'll go in to him now Blacwin – all goes well and tonight may be the night."

Blacwin just continued to look at him with the same perpetually bored expression and Elias fought the urge to slap the man – he would definitely be punished for that sin – for Blacwin was Aldred's second in command.

Calming himself Elias continued further into the house – a very nice one it was to be sure – and made his way to where Aldred had set up his headquarters. Knocking he awaited permission to enter – which was given in a typically irritated tone.

Elias pushed open the door which glided smoothly and entered the room. Aldred was sitting behind a huge mahogany desk listening to what sounded like the end of a report from one of the head guards of the forced chain gang of woodsmen.

"They are just getting harder to control Captain, today was a very close call. They are a strong and willful people. And vengeful – they shall not give into us altogether so easily – I fear they bide their time. What if they are in with the elves? We should be doomed then Captain."

"Silence man," thundered Aldred who was near purple in the face with rage, "You are afraid of these simpletons? These knuckle dragging woods people who actually choose to live in this forsaken forest with the accursed elves? Grab a hold of yourself and your wits lest I put an end to you all together."

"Sorry Captain," the guard hung his head low, "but they were very willful today and -"

"Hold your tongue," Aldred was roaring now and Elias tried his best to blend in with the rich tapestry adorning the wall to his back.

"Hold your tongue or I shall cut it out. I will hear no more of this incident nor your pathetic sniveling." Aldred turned to look at two thin lanky men sitting sprawled across the plush sofas at the back of the room.

"Samer, Saveric go and teach our chained slaves how to behave." Aldred sat back down having jumped to his feet in his earlier rage. "Here use these."

The two addressed men sprung to their feet at once, each taking a wicked looking whip from the outstretched hand of their Captain. The tall duo gave quick bows and turned to leave wicked grins upon their faces when they were stopped by the perpetually irritated voice of Aldred.

"You man" he pointed to the fearful looking guard, "follow them and learn how to properly bend others to your will for if I hear of another similar incident you shall be joining the woodsmen in their chains."

Aldred gave a quick dismissive wave of his hand, "Now leave the three of you."

The guard hastened to the door after Samer and Saveric who once again had evil grins plastered on their faces no doubt at the thought of the pain they were about to inflict. Elias forced himself not to shudder – those two were nasty pieces of work.

He had no longer to think upon the wicked brothers for Aldred's commanding voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Elias. Give me your report and this one had better be good."

Elias smiled at his Captain and moved to take a seat in front of his desk. He was sure Aldred would be pleased with _his_ news.

**~o~**

Legolas was trying really, really hard to get a hold of himself – he could feel himself constantly drifting off into sleep – and mild delirium if he was honest with himself - and forced his eyes to open. He needed to take charge of this situation once again and let his _eledhrim_ know that he was in still control. He could not show any further weakness now.

Willing away his headache and ignoring the throb of his shoulder he spoke up forcing his voice to remain steady and strong, "Celegil, Thoron we will be upon our campsite for the night soon will we not?"

"Yes Captain," Thoron's strong voice floated back to him.

"Good, you will go ahead now and ensure all is as you left it and naught is amiss. We shall break here and await your signal."

"Yes _Hest_ ," their answer was as synchronized as their leaps off horse back and into the trees.

Legolas addressed the rest of his warriors, "All of you into the trees and horses into the brush – let us not be sitting ducks for anything unfriendly."

His troop with dismounted with ease and speed leaping into the trees, whisperingly asking their horses to head into the shrubs and bushes off the path to hide.

Legolas guided Morchant under a low hanging bough before he hauled himself up into the tree with rather more effort than he would have liked. His horse looked up as though checking his master was safely in the tree before whipping his tail and shaking his head he headed off into the brush to conceal himself. Legolas smiled – his horse had so much attitude.

Legolas looked up and decided he was still far too low down in the tree to be hidden. With a barely held back sigh he proceeded to drag himself higher up the tree one handedly. There was no point in hiding his injured shoulder from his troop now – they had all seen him fall upon it after all. However despite the hindrance of only one properly working arm Legolas managed to guide himself to a decent height in the tree – he was a wood elf after all and especially beloved by the trees of his _Adar_ 's Kingdom – the tree he had chosen felt honoured and it would not let him fall. In fact it shuffled its branches around to better conceal him.

Satisfied with his position Legolas leaned back against the tree and listened to its excited chatter letting it soothe him. They would wait until given the all clear and despite his pleasant current company he would be glad when they would be on their way to the campsite where he would finally be able to rest properly.

**~o~**

"Blacwin."

Blacwin turned his bored gaze toward the door from where the irritated shout of his name had come and slowly moved towards it.

"Yes Captain?"

"Come in man, do you think I call you for naught?"

Blacwin held back a long-suffering sigh and opened the door before giving a slight bow of his head.

"Yes Captain?"

"Get in here fully and close the door already," Aldred snapped.

Having done as he was told Blacwin stepped closer before taking up the second seat in front of Aldred's desk. Elias still occupied the other.

Aldred looked at him before smiling indulgently at Elias – or at least he tried to – it came off more like a toothy grimace.

"Young Elias here has wonderful news – the elves shall be in prime position tonight. We shall have our pick of the bunch and Elias has a few targets in mind." Aldred did his disturbing version of a smile again, "Gather the men – but leave enough to guard this cursed race of people. We leave in half an hour."

Aldred rubbed his hands together in glee, "Yes, tonight is the night we put our plan into motion and we shall soon enough be rich indeed."

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eledhrim – Elves
> 
> Hest – Captain
> 
> Adar – Father


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our elves setle into their camp for the night - unaware they're being targeted.

Aldred yanked hard on his reins in a poor attempt to calm his horse. He was getting annoyed with waiting for his rag tag group to get themselves together and his horse was no better as it tossed its head and snorted impatiently. They needed to get a move on if they were to be in position by morning – and it was early evening now – just after sunset.

Where they were going was not very far away but they would need to move as silently and as stealthily as they possibly could so as not to bring the elves they sought down upon them. There were other fell creatures too that roamed these woods at night and they would do well to stay unseen and unheard. Aldred turned to look at his men whom Blacwin was currently placing into some sort of an order and giving last minute instructions. He sighed – tonight would be a long one. They would have to go slow and careful and in all honesty Aldred was unsure if some of the men could do it.

Elias came up to him just then interrupting his disparaging thoughts of some of his men.

"Elias you will lead the way – and boy I hope for all our sake's you've picked a route that even some of these half-wits will be able to traverse without awaking the entire forest."

"I've done my best Captain. I cleared the route as best I could without making it an obvious path. The trick will be to go slow, steady and silent."

"Indeed," grunted Aldred giving his reins a yank again.

Blacwin approached just then and gave a curt nod of his head, "We're ready to leave now Captain."

Aldred nodded and turned to face his assembled men.

"We must be in position by first light. Then we shall attack. I expect you to give it your all and give the elves no quarter."

He paused and scanned the faces in front of him, "If we give them even an inch we shall all be dead. We are here to make money not to die. Elias please outline our targets for the men. These are the elves I do not want unnecessarily harmed only subdued – I hope that is clear." Aldred glowered at his men who all nodded in return.

"Good, Elias please if you would."

"Yes Captain," Elias puffed out his chest and turned to face the assembled men. "We have three main targets – two she-elves one with light brown hair and the other with very dark brown hair – nearly black. They will fetch a pretty price. The last target is a male elf – blonde – and he looks a bit delicate at the moment so should be the easiest target as well as the easiest to spot. He is the only fair haired one amongst them."

"Right anything else we ought to know before leaving Elias?" Aldred was beyond inpatient by now and was itching to go but he would not go unprepared.

"I have cleared the path as best I could without making it suspicious but still be sure to have a care where your horses thread. Also the blonde elf seems to be the leader of the pack so if we take him down the others shall be leaderless and easier to deal with and -"

"Thank you Elias," Aldred interrupted forcefully, he did not have all night to stand here and let Elias play at being in command. "We move out now and I want no talking in the ranks whilst we travel – lest you want to lose your tongues. You have all been briefed on the positions you should take and who the targets are. We -"

"Captain wait," cried Elias causing shocked inhales of breath from the rest of the men – they all knew the Captain hated to be interrupted.

Elias seemed to realise his mistake but ploughed on regardless, head bowed feeling fairly certain what he had to say was of enough importance.

"Begging your pardon Captain but do all the men have their flowers?"

Aldred sent a questioning glare towards his men, "Well do ya?" he snapped.

The men stammered their affirmatives some holding up their small leather pouches that contained the plant.

Aldred nodded, "Good – make sure you all keep the flowers safe," he paused to send an irritated glance at Elias, "let us move out - now!"

With that Aldred swung round and jabbed his spurs in his horse's side with unnecessary force leading the group out of the dimly lit village and into the darkness of the forest.

**~o~**

Legolas could not help but smile as he at last rode into the clearing where they were to make camp for the night. He slid off Morchant and gave his cramped muscles a stretch whilst shaking his head to clear it. He realized what a bad idea that was as his head begun to pound ever more fiercely in protest to his careless and foolish actions.

Putting a hand up to his temple Legolas rubbed whilst he walked round what was to be their home for the night. He was pleased, Celegil and Thoron had chosen well – the clearing was shielded from the wind and large enough to host them and their horses comfortably. Right at the far end of the clearing was a small stream bubbling away merrily – a sight that pleased Legolas even more. He'd be able to wash himself of the foulness left behind by the Southern Patrol and their horses would be able to drink to their hearts content.

Smiling he turned to his warriors and begun to assign the tasks that came with setting up camp. Thoron and Celegil were sent to fetch firewood as well as giving the wider area one final comb over for potential enemies. Magoldir and Feren were to tend to the horses whilst Aithel and Hadril went to collect the water need for tonight's meal as well as re-filling their water skins. They were also to be the camp chefs for the night.

Lastly Legolas turned to Arasson and Camaendir, "See if you two can find any game for our meal tonight. We are far enough from the shadow now that you should have a chance at catching something. Faervel and I shall be on first watch."

With quick bows to their Captain Arasson and Camaendir slipped off into the night to see what they could find.

Legolas whistled to catch Faervel's attention, who was currently routing around in his saddle bags and seemed not to have heard Legolas. Faervel looked up a questioning expression on his face.

"I said that you and I would take first watch over the camp come let us make our first round."

Legolas grabbed his spear and once again with Morchant's assistance made his way into the trees. He would not be able to use his bow or twin knives without considerable pain but he could still use a spear – only one hand was needed after all. Faervel followed after him bow in hand, an arrow loosely knocked and they began to walk through the trees who were humming with excitement at the wood elves traversing their branches.

Faervel waited until they were a fair distance from both the small stream and the where their horses were being groomed before he pulled gently on Legolas' good shoulder getting him to stop.

"Let me have a quick look at your shoulder Las, and you should take something for your pain now if you are to take first watch. Which by the way in my professional healer's opinion is folly."

Legolas sighed and sat down on the branch he was upon and Faervel squatted down next to him whipping out a small healers pouch. That must have been what he had been so intent on finding in his bags mused Legolas sourly. Still he sat like an obedient little elfling and let Faervel look into his eyes checking for any lingering effects of the poison.

"Do not be overlong with this Faervel we are supposed to be on guard after all. The others cook and prep camp in the knowledge we watch their backs."

"I know this Legolas," Faervel snapped annoyed now with his friend's nonchalance towards his health, "but in truth you should not be here. You should be resting."

"I have rested enough." Legolas glared at Faervel blue eyes flashing with annoyance.

"You have rested nowhere near enough Legolas. Your shoulder pains you and the poison still lurks within you."

Legolas said no more setting his lips in a thin angry line, he tightened his hold upon his spear and continued to glance around them listening for anything untoward.

Faervel sighed knowing Legolas had clammed up now and he gestured for Legolas to remove his light armour, vest and shirt so that he might look at his shoulder.

Legolas reluctantly complied before turning his back to his friend silent all the while. Faervel looked at the shoulder revealed to him and made small noise of displeasure. Legolas' shoulder was now an angry red with a deep purple around the area of the bite and a thin trickle of blackish looking blood ran from the wound – the fall had caused it to open again – and as he suspected there was poison still within.

Sighing once more Faervel decided to set to work and shoved two pain numbing leaves in his friends face. Legolas stared at them with the same dispassionate distaste he would an orc. Faervel grit his teeth, clearly his friend was in full on stubborn mode but still he needed to do this quickly – Legolas was right in that the others were depending on them to keep a proper look out.

"Las please take them they shall only numb your pain they will not hinder your ability to complete the watch. Then I need to drain your shoulder again and bandage it. Please I will be quick but the herbs will help."

Faervel held out the leaves a few moments more before Legolas begrudgingly took them and shoved them in his mouth chewing forcefully. Satisfied Faervel completed his ugly task quickly; draining and bandaging the wound after having packed it with antiseptic herbs all with seemingly only minor pain to his friend before he sat back putting his things back into his pouch.

"There we are the done – the herbs should kick in soon enough if they have not already. We may go now."

Legolas said nothing, still brooding as he pulled on his shirt, vest and armour fastening them as hastily as he could without jolting his arm too much. Done he stood up and spear in his good hand continued his round of the clearing without so much as a glance at Faervel. He heard his friend sigh again and his soft footsteps following. Soon they were side by side once more but Legolas kept his gaze ahead.

He was annoyed with Faervel – always he mothered him. It was beyond aggravating. Legolas would be damned by _Morgoth_ himself if he took it easy and rested for another night. He had already been forced off taking night watch for the past four nights by Faervel, wasn't that enough? Legolas was fuming he was annoyed at Faervel but truly angry with himself – if only he had not let himself be bitten by that cursed spider. Legolas grit his teeth and shook his head ignoring its protest at that unwise move. He needed to get a hold of himself and pay attention to his surroundings. Losing himself in his anger would help no one now.

Legolas breathed out slowly and glanced at his friend; Faervel had been looking at him and gave a small smile. Legolas gave one back. He had never been able to stay mad at his childhood friend for too long.

"Come you insufferable mother hen. Let us complete this watch and get back to the camp and see how the others fare."

Grinning broadly Faervel nodded his head, "Yes _Hest_."

"Don't _Hest_ me now you insubordinate pest of a healer."

Faervel only laughed and Legolas grinned to hear the clear happy sound of it.

**~o~**

Faervel dropped down into the midst of the camp whilst Legolas again used Morchant to assist him down from the trees, sliding out of the trees lowest branch to get onto his horses back before dismounting. He joined Faervel in the center of the camp doing his best to contain his anger and embarrassment at having to need Morchant's help to get in and out of the trees. Fighting both emotions down he declared the perimeter of their camp secure.

"That is good news indeed now come and eat – Arasson and Camaendir out did themselves and brought us back a deer," Hadril called over to them from her place at the camp fire.

"Really? Well then very well done both of you," Legolas grinned over at the two hunters who were now sitting near the fire looking well fed and far more content than Legolas had seen them in weeks.

"They did indeed," continued Hadril as she dished up some stew for them both. "They also came across a patch of mushrooms so we shall feast well for breakfast also."

"Here you go you may both sit, eat and rest for a bit now."

Faervel accepted his portion at once with heartfelt thanks to both chef and hunters but Legolas had to assign the next watch and find out how the area ahead and around them looked from Celegil and Thoron.

"Please keep mine warm Hadril," Legolas smiled at her sweetly, "I'll return for it soon."

"See that you do Captain," Hadril called out warningly even as Legolas turned to make his way over to his scouts.

Legolas smiled – Hadril could be very forceful and even scary at times. "I will Hadril – I would not miss out on your venison stew for all the mithril in Arda."

**~o~**

Legolas sighed in deep contentment, Celegil and Thoron had nothing untoward to report and Legolas had set Magoldir and Feren on the second watch of the night with Aithel and Camaendir on the final watch.

He rinsed the last of the soap from his hair and felt glad to be full of good food and clean once again. Legolas switched his position so that he was now floating on his back, the cool water soothing his aching shoulder. He could also look up at the beautiful night sky which was liberally sprinkled with _Elbereth's_ blessed stars.

He could also rather annoyingly feel Faervel's presence – his friend was sitting on the bank braiding his freshly washed hair and mothering him as usual.

"Las you should come out now – you don't want to get a chill."

Legolas snorted in a most un-princely way, "I am an elf Faervel – I do not catch chills." Legolas continued unperturbed, hair floating around him like a golden halo.

"Yes I know that but you're also an elf recently poisoned and not yet fully recovered. You could easily catch a chill."

Legolas dunked himself under the water before surfacing and shaking out his golden mane – all over Faervel.

"Was that necessary Las?"

Legolas laughed.

"It's what you get for your ceaseless mothering. Please Faervel I know how I feel and I feel like soaking here for a while more," Legolas went back to floating on his back, "and the sky is particularly lovely tonight."

Faervel sighed as he gathered his things ready to head back to the main camp, "Fine I shall leave you to it – for a while - but tell me first how is your pain?"

Legolas considered for a moment as he relished the feel of the water against his shoulder which still gave a consistent dull throb to the rhythm of his heartbeat. He considered his ribs and hip both of which had been bruised in his fall. He also considered his headache which had lessened considerably since Faervel had forced those herbs on him. Overall he was in less pain but there was still pain – but Faervel didn't need to know that. If Legolas told him honestly how he felt right now Faervel wouldn't leave him to star gaze from the water in peace. He'd hover and his nervous energy would spoil the evening for Legolas.

"I'm fine," Legolas felt a small twinge of guilt for lying to his friend but continued, "I feel much better since you forced those herbs on me."

"I did not force you Las. You make my job as troop healer so very difficult – do you know that?"

Legolas merely threw him a self-satisfied smirk.

Muttering to himself about annoying and stupid Captains Faervel made his way back to the clearing leaving Legolas to enjoy his stars in blissful silence.

**~o~**

Faervel glanced up as his Captain strolled back into camp, a good two hours later, looking extremely pleased with himself. Legolas' hair was still damp and unbraided – Thranduil would have been annoyed if he knew just how much Legolas strolled around with his hair unkempt and unbound when on patrol.

"Good night Faervel," Legolas continued his smirking as he went up to Morchant who he used again to get up into the trees.

Gritting his teeth Faervel just shook his head at his friends antics and climbed up into a tree near to the one Legolas was in and begun to make himself comfortable for the night. He had waited up for Legolas and had been the only one awake in the camp apart from Magoldir and Feren who continued their watch.

Finally settled Faervel whispered into the darkness "Good night Las."

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hest – Captain


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aldred and his men finally begin to put their plan into action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta Karleen for ploughing through these so quickly!

Aldred was trying his very best to stay calm but he was fighting a rapidly losing battle. He felt that he and his men had covered only half the distance needed so far and the second watch of the night was nearly over. This was taking far too long. They needed to speed up if this thing were going to happen by sun rise. Had Elias said the elf camp was so far away? Aldred was sure it was all the having to keep quiet that was making this little trek seem like it was taking an eternity.

He held up a hand, "Halt." The men came to a sudden and somewhat loud stop behind him. "Elias front and center now," he hissed.

"Y-yes Captain?" Elias cursed the slight tremble in his voice but he was still very much aware that his Captain was annoyed with him for his interruption nearly four hours ago.

"Scout ahead and see if there is a suitable and convenient place we can leave our horses. I think we shall make better time and less noise" here he paused to glare at his men, "if we do that. We have a need of haste if we are going to get in position by sun up."

"Sir" Elias sketched a hasty bow and spurred his mount onwards to do as he was bid.

Aldred regarded the rest of his men, "Come make use of this small break, let us get the flowers in order so we are fully prepared when it is time to use them. Tie them into two bunches – small bouquets if you like. Make sure you have your flint close enough at hand. Once we are all in position I will give the signal and you are to set the first bunch of flowers alight, hold them aloft and let the smoke take effect. The when I give the second signal light your second bunch and throw them as near to the elf camp as you can and then we shall let the herbs do their work."

Satisfied as his men scrambled to do as he had instructed Aldred gave a small smile. He was fairly sure that they were going to pull this plan off successfully and the small intricate purple flowers his men were currently tying into bunches were central to his plot.

Passion flower was known amongst men for being a relaxant and sleep aid. However according to Elias this plant had a potent effect on elves – particularly when burnt. It dulled their scarily sharp senses and made them confused and clumsy. Aldred glanced at his own bunch of flowers. Elias had better be right or they would all be shot full of arrows before they could blink.

That tuned his thoughts to his scout extraordinaire. Elias was still somewhat of a mystery to Aldred. He had known him for just over a year and had never, ever had a scout so good at his work. The boy moved like a wraith and could track and follow even the most carefully concealed tracks. He also knew rather a lot about elves – a rather lot about elves.

Aldred had at first thought that he might have been working with the pointy ears themselves but then he had seen the spark of pure hatred that lit up in the young man's eyes every time the word elf was mentioned. He knew he was safe then. So Aldred had welcomed him into the fold and had come to truly appreciate the boy's extraordinary talents. He appreciated them so much that he allowed Elias to get away with a lot more than he would his other men.

Aldred was interrupted from his musings on Elias when the man himself returned a half hour later as silent and as wraith-like as ever.

"I have found a spot Captain not too far ahead and well concealed. We can leave the horses there and carry on from there on foot."

"How far is the horses hiding spot from the elf camp?"

"Not far at all Captain. In fact we are closer to their camp than expected. Seems like we are making good time after all. It should take us no more than an hour to be in full position all going well."

Aldred waved a hand impatiently, "Never mind all that is this hiding place of yours within running distance from the elf camp?"

"I would say so Captain, yes."

"Be sure boy," Aldred growled, "a lot of this mission's success rests on your shoulders – I have had the men prep their flowers. Are you sure of their effects on the elves? We shall have a fair deal more trouble with them if you are wrong."

Elias got an odd glint in his eyes before the hatred Aldred was used to took its place.

"Trust me Captain I am sure of this, with the smoke from these flowers they will be confused and slow, their senses dulled. We must just make sure that we wear our masks - it does not affect men anywhere near as badly as it does elves but we should take no risks."

Aldred nodded satisfied, and as he had before he wondered now about Elias' past, how the boy had come to have so much knowledge of elves. But this was not the best time to ask those questions – it never really was.

Shaking thoughts of Elias' mystery past he signaled to his men to mount up, "Be silent from here on in, ensure you have your plants, flint and masks ready for when I give the signal. Now move – and do it silently." Aldred grabbed his own reins and followed behind Elias – he hated repeating himself so many times in one night but honestly some of his men had very little between their ears.

Hoping against hope that all would go without a hitch Aldred focused on the path ahead ensuring he and his horse made no further noise than absolutely necessary.

**~o~**

Silently Elias led the men away from the place where their horses hid. Aldred had to admit he was impressed – it was perfect – an enclave made by two mighty oak trees. It was covered over with vines and concealed their horses perfectly.

Now they were creeping along behind Elias as he led them along the last stretch towards the elf camp. Before long Elias stopped and Aldred held up his hand in signal for all his men behind him to come to a halt. They were close – there could be no speaking now – they would have to use hand signals from here on in. Aldred could only hope that his men remembered what each signal meant.

Elias signaled with his small bunch of flowers that it was time for the men to set light to their first bunch of flowers. Aldred did the same holding his as high as he could to ensure all his men could see the signal. He heard gentle rustling behind him as his men slipped on their masks and set their flowers alight. Aldred pulled his own mask over his face and expertly set flame to his bunch of herbs as he watched Elias do the same.

Having waited for the flowers to catch flame properly and start to smoke Elias and Aldred began to wave them around holding up as high into the air as they could. The men behind did the same and they watched as the soft grey smoke floated away from them on a gentle breeze and towards the clearing that held their targets.

**~o~**

Aithel wrinkled her nose, paused and sniffed at the air. She suddenly sneezed and wrinkled her nose even more as she sniffed. Camaendir came up beside her his arrow loosely knocked and gave her a questioning look.

"Is all well Aithel?"

Aithel gripped her spear harder and gave another long sniff. "Do you smell that Camaendir? Something odd – a faintly sweet smell?"

Camaendir give an experimental sniff, "Not really. You say it is a sweet smell?"

Aithel nodded, "Yes, but it is very faint though."

"Sorry Aithel – I can't really smell anything at the moment."

Aithel sniffed again but this time could smell nothing. She shrugged, "Well it must have been a passing breeze – I can smell naught now myself. Come if we time this right by the time we finish this round breakfast should be about to be served."

Camaendir grinned at her, "Yes that's a good idea and I'm looking forward to seeing what Hadril makes with the mushrooms."

"Yes she is a rather good cook isn't she? When we are paired to do the cooking together I merely follow her command – the bulk of the actual cooking is left to her. I simply chop, peel and stir when she says so." Aithel laughed fondly and shook her head, "I think she prefers it that way."

"Yes – when _Hest_ Legolas paired me with her for the first time I tried to help with the actual cooking but she was not very impressed and set me to the dishes instead."

Aithel laughed again as she imagined the look Hadril would have given Camaendir upon his attempt to actually cook something. Hadril could come off as cold and forceful but she took pride in keeping her troop as well fed as possible and did not really welcome any input to her dishes.

She laughed again. "Yes I can well imagine she was not impressed. Never mind – at least with her in charge we are guaranteed a tasty meal."

Camaendir nodded in agreement as they continued their rounds through the trees.

**~o~**

Camaendir slipped and hastily grabbed onto a nearby branch to right himself. Aithel paused and looked at him blearily.

"Are you well Cam?"

Camaendir nodded his head furiously, "Yes Aithel worry not."

Aithel gave him a quick once over before motioning for him to catch up to her and they proceeded to continue their round.

Camaendir gave his head a slight shake as he re-adjusted the position of his bow and adjusted his grip. He had no idea why he had slipped just then. It was highly irregular and embarrassing. He was as fleet footed as any wood elf and beloved by the trees – they would not play tricks with him and cause him to lose his footing. Camaendir looked back at the branch he had slipped on checking if there was any moss or other abnormality that could have caused him to stumble but there was nothing.

"Do not worry over it so Cam – you are perhaps tired. It happens to us all at a point. Tis nothing major."

Aithel was trying to soothe him but it just made Camaendir feel worse. He was the youngest in this troop at the age of just 416. He had joined them only a year ago and this had been his first time serving on the Southern Patrol. He knew he had done very well to be able to join the Prince's elite group of _maethyr_ at such a young age but he still felt as though he had to prove his worth to them all. Slipping and nearly falling out of a tree in front of his second in command was not his idea of impressive.

Still he resolved to put it behind him and adjusted his grip yet again on his bow which now seemed as heavy as if it were made from solid mithril. Camaendir blinked as he felt unbalanced on his feet again and cast his eyes down to the branches he tread upon. This was not an ideal situation – he should be keeping an eye on his surroundings and ensuring the camp where his fellow warriors slept stayed safe. Yet he felt unbalanced as he never had before and was afraid that if his eyes left the path he tread for even a moment he would slip again.

That could not happen – he did not want Aithel to give _Hest_ Legolas a bad report of him saying that he was clumsy and unfocused. Camaendir bit his lip and glanced around him quickly as he fell even further back behind Aithel. He had to focus – he could not slip up again. This watch would last only a short time more for already they sky was beginning to be bathed in a pale pink glow. He could do this. He just needed to focus.

**~o~**

Aithel was completely unaware of the inner battle going on with Camaendir behind her as she tried her best to focus her mind on the task at hand. She found it difficult however as her mind repeatedly wandered – what Hadril would cook them for breakfast, how pretty the sky was at sunrise, perhaps she ought to have a dress made in that colour? How sweet the wee robins were as they happily welcomed the new day with their beautiful chirping song. How the very air around her was sweet and heavy like fine perfume and how she felt like dancing.

Aithel shook her head – what a ridiculous thing to think about whilst on watch. She strengthened her grip on her spear which was rather heavy. It felt as if it had a leaden point. Aithel stopped and rubbed her eyes – she just needed a drink to refresh her and clear her head. A sip of cool water would help. She pulled out her water skin to take a sip but fumbled badly with opening it and watched in dismay as it slipped from her hands and fell to the forest floor below.

She gaped down at it before turning to check if Camaendir had witnessed her shame. Camaendir it seemed had seen nothing and was shuffling along the branch behind her as though he were an elfling newly learned to climb trees.

Aithel watched him in concern that quickly slipped her mind as she thought how fun it had been to help teach her young nephew to climb his first tree.

Camaendir looked up suddenly to see Aithel smiling at him fondly. Or was that condescendingly? It was not his fault that he had suddenly lost all the grace and balance of the _Eldar_. Oh please let her not tell the Captain.

Camaendir was about to open his mouth to beg for her silence and mercy when Aithel cooed at him, "Come now Cam – we're nearly there only a few more trees."

She held out her hand and her grasped it eagerly – letting his bow fall limp at his side – feeling far too grateful at the fact he would no longer have to struggle through the trees to feel much shame that he needed help at all. Thought he knew not why she cooed at him and smiled at him in such a manner – yes he was the baby of the group but still this was odd. He had no further time to think upon it as all his focus was once again needed to keep him from falling out of the trees.

Hand in hand they continued round the last bend of their route back to where the camp fire lay – Aithel smiling giddily and giggling from time to time whilst Camaendir shuffled alongside her and gripped her hand for dear life.

**~o~**

Elias peered at the two of them of a minute longer before rushing back towards the waiting group of men. The flowers were working – the two elves who were supposed to be on guard seemed hardly aware of their surroundings – so much so that Elias had been directly under them at a point and neither had batted an eye.

Elias smiled – perfect - this was going swimmingly. The Captain would be pleased indeed.

He reached the spot where the men were still wafting the last of the embers from their flowers into the morning air. Smilingly he gave his Captain a huge thumbs up before signaling that he was ready to move the men into position.

Aldred nodded and smiled his smile that was more of a grimace. Finally the waiting and trailing around through this dank forest was over – in perhaps half an hour more he would finally have his hands on the elf he wanted most – the golden haired male elf. He could hardly wait – if all went well that one would make him rich indeed.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hest – Captain
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our elves are not feeling like themselves - and then... they're under attack.

Elias deposited the last of the men – Samer and Saveric – into their positions and headed back over to Aldred to tell his Captain that all was at last ready. Elias had deposited the men (there were a total of twenty six of them including him and the Captain) in a tight circle around the elf camp. They men had been split up into pairs and knew that they were to wait until they heard the chirp of a swallow. That would be the signal for them to set light to their second batch of flowers. They'd let them take full effect on the elves before they would follow the lead of himself and the Captain (who were paired together) and attack.

A sound plan – Elias simply hoped that none of the men fouled it up. Elias was back at Aldred's side and signaled to his Captain that the men were in position. Aldred gave a curt nod and without further ado Elias whistled as loudly as he could mimicking the call of a sparrow. The plan was set in motion now. There would be no going back.

**~o~**

Aithel and Camaendir returned to the sight of a very sleepy and sluggish looking camp. Where there would usually be the brisk activity associated with breaking camp there were stifled yawns and looks of mild confusion. A swallow chirped loudly announcing morning was come yet some in the camp were still asleep – Faervel, Thoron and Celegil all slumbering in the treetops.

Legolas was awake though he seemed to be confused and rather tired as he approached them whilst trying to stifle a yawn.

"Aithel, Camaendir," Legolas paused to try and stifle another yawn unsuccessfully, "today is a beautiful day is it not?"

Legolas gestured widely with both arms before grimacing and lightly touching his left shoulder, "What news from the watch?"

"No news at all Captain. All quite apart from the lovely little birds." Aithel was cooing again.

Camaendir smiled and gave a salute to Legolas before slumping down on the ground grateful to be out of the trees in one piece.

"Ah good," was Legolas' coherent reply seemingly not noticing the odd reply and behavior from his warriors.

"That's so good. You two can rest now and have breakfast – but," Legolas cocked his head to one side and looked over to where Hadril and Arasson were seemingly arguing, "I don't think any has been made as yet?"

"Come." Legolas grabbed both their hands yanking Camaendir up off the ground with his good arm and dragging them both behind him over to the now cold camp fire.

"Arasson, Hadril what is the hold up? Our brave warriors have returned and you have not yet started the fire?"

Hadril and Arasson each glanced at the other before turning to their Captain.

"I cannot remember how and neither can he." Hadril stated with a scowl.

Legolas frowned, "Remember what?"

"How to start a fire!" they both replied in frustration Hadril gesticulating wildly and Arasson frowning with hands folded across his chest.

"Do not be silly," Legolas shook his head as he bent down near the fire pit, "tis simple."

"Then you do it," Hadril thrust the flint down at him and stalked off in the direction of the stream. "We will get the water. Come Arasson."

Legolas watched Arasson as he scrambled to keep up with Hadril and shook his head feeling sorry for him; Hadril seemed to be in an even testier mood than usual. Legolas patted the ground next to him gesturing for Aithel and Camaendir to sit.

"We will eat soon," he assured before turning his attention to the cold fire pit in front of him. How could neither Hadril nor Arasson remember how to start a fire? It was most odd. Even the older elflings knew how – why all you had to do was –

Legolas blinked as his mind drew a blank. He knew how to do this – come on, think, all he had to do was… was? Legolas sighed and let his head fall so that his hair fell around his face. He could do this, it was a basic skill. But his mind was so fuzzy. Yes that was the word fuzzy as if there were cotton inside his head. He'd felt that way ever since he had woken up to a sweet smelling breeze. He had actually come down out of his tree to go wash his face and have a drink of water hoping that would help him feel less groggy.

Then he had seen Camaendir and Aithel stroll into camp side by side, hand in hand and he had forgotten what he was going to do. In fact what was he supposed to be doing now?

His jumbled thoughts were further interrupted by Feren and Magoldir walking up towards them.

"Aithel is this your water skin? It has your marking on it – it was near the latrine." Magoldir tossed the skin in Aithel's direction who made a poor, fumbled attempt at catching it.

"Uh thanks."

"You're most welcome my lady," and Magoldir bowed so deep and low that he would have fallen flat on his face had Feren not caught him.

Magoldir giggled, "Shall we dance Feren?"

Feren yanked him up to full height before spinning him so they were face to face, "Yes – we shall."

Legolas watched as two of his best warriors waltzed round the camp. Should he stop them? Was this ok? Wasn't there something he was supposed to be doing? Why did he feel so odd? His head felt like a fluff filled pillow and he couldn't keep hold of any one thought for more than a minute at a time.

Suddenly there was a scream – high pitched and terrified.

Then a yell from Arasson.

"Hadril! Hadril no!"

**~o~**

Aldred had waited patiently as the fire burned through the delicate purple flowers and the wind swept the smoke away towards the elf camp. He and Elias were crouched down behind a thorny bush near a stream – a prime spot that allowed them a clear view into the camp.

Aldred watched as the elves started to act – well odd. That was the only way to describe it. First they were stumbling around yawning, then they seemed to be fighting amongst themselves at their fire before two elves started stalking over towards the stream and their hiding place. Aldred tensed and gave a furious yet worried look at Elias. Elias seemed unconcerned and merely motioned for him to wait. Aldred's worry seemed mis-placed as neither elf took any notice of them and proceeded to try and fill some pots with the cool liquid from the stream.

Aldred slowly relaxed as he watched the elves fumble around near the stream bank when finally the she elf waded in arguing with the male elf in that strange language of theirs the whole while. Aldred watched as she came ever closer yet still did not register their presence whilst the male elf had his back turned as he tried to balance one pot on the streams edge. This was it, this was their chance – and if he was not mistaken this very she elf was one of their targets. Perfect.

He tightened his grip on his broad sword and looked over to Elias before giving him a confirming nod. Attack!

Aldred sprang from the bush and plunged straight into the water grabbing at the she elf's long hair that hung in a braid. He yanked hard and pulled her toward him placing his broadsword across her throat. Arasson turned sharply at Hadril's panicked scream.

He could not believe the sight that greeted him. "Hadril! Hadril no!"

Arasson made a lunge for the man holding his rather large sword at Hadril's throat but was stopped when another younger man jumped at him brandishing a wicked looking pair of knives. Arasson's attention was momentarily distracted from Hadril's plight as he ducked and swerved sharply to the left to avoid the man's blades. Arasson reached into his vest quickly and pulled out his own pair of daggers. He would have preferred to have had his twin swords with him now but these would have to do.

Arasson speedily parried the man's next attack as he took quick steps backwards to avoid the furious onslaught. This man was skilled and speedy and Arasson was most definitely on the back foot. He felt slow not nearly as fast as usual and he grit his teeth at having to fend off another skilled maneuver. He could not take his eyes off the man for fear he would be cut to shreds but he was worried for Hadril. He would not let that big brute of a man harm her.

Arasson glanced up for only a moment and was annoyed to see the man smack Hadril hard in the face with the blunt hilt of his sword. He had no time to do anything about it or even think on it further as a sharp stinging pain bit across his chest bringing him back to the reality of his own battle.

Elias felt please he had landed a blow on the elf. The flowers had really done their work – this elf was really out of sorts and distracted and slower than any elf ought to be.

Elias dully noted the sounds of the others scrambling out of the bushes around them – he was too focused on trying to beat his elf. He lunged forward again, one knife aiming for the elf's neck and the other for his stomach.

Arasson heard the sounds of the men plunging through the bushes around them and realized in that instant that they were under an ambush. He needed to warn the others. Arasson blocked Elias' knife going in for his neck crossing his daggers in front of him protectively. He was un-prepared for the second knife that was plunged into his stomach.

With a howl of pain Arasson kicked out at the man hard, hearing the knife slide out of his stomach with a sickening pop.

Using Elias' momentary loss of balance Arasson pulled himself up to his full height as he launched his attack on the man and screamed, " _Sy telir! Tiro!"_

**~o~**

The warriors round the camp fire sprang up instantly grabbing what weapons they could upon hearing Arasson's cries for Hadril. They were about to run headlong towards the stream when all of a sudden men leapt from the bushes all around them each brandishing weapons. Legolas realized with a start that they were under attack.

"To the trees – get into the trees," he screamed, "Archers shoot! _Maetho_!"

Legolas scrambled backward towards the tree he had slept in and grabbed his spear that leant against it, before he took a running charge at a pair of men barreling towards him. If he made himself a distraction maybe his _maethyr_ could get up into the trees from where they could rain arrows down upon these men.

Legolas did not expect his charge to be so slow and ungainly as he stumbled once and lost his momentum and crashed into the men. Still he had knocked them off their feet and Legolas sprang back to his – nowhere near as fast as he would've liked - and turned round to smash the blunt end of his spear into the skull of a man who was trying to run him through from behind.

Legolas swiveled back round to the two in front of him and plunged his spear into the heart of one before he pulled it out as fast as he could and plunged it into the neck of the other who had been trying to get back onto his feet. Legolas gave his spear a forceful yank to free it of the man's body and spun round just in time to fend off a blow form yet another man. Legolas was forced into a defensive crouch as he tried to stay well away from the man's angrily swinging sword.

He ducked and stumbled yet again, _Eru Illuvatar_ where had his Elven grace gone? Legolas made another block before he rashly swung his spear out at the man's ankles causing the man to jump back. That gave Legolas the break he needed and he sprang away towards the horses. He needed to get up into the trees and the horses could help them overcome these thugs.

" _Edraith enni_ Morchant. Come all horses – _maetho, maetho, maetho_!"

Legolas heard a whinnying charge as the horses stormed into the melee. Morchant came up to him and ignoring his shoulders protest Legolas flung himself up onto his horse's broad back and promptly ran his spear through a man who had advanced too close.

"Quick boy take me over to that branch I need to get into the trees."

Morchant obediently galloped over to the low hanging branch his master had pointed out and Legolas swung himself up onto it refusing to cry out at the pain in his shoulder. He frantically scrambled up it before racing through the branches towards the tree he had slept in the previous night where his bow lay. He stumbled several times and was glad when he finally made it to his bow without having fallen from the trees to his death below.

Legolas fumbled as he tried to quickly knock an arrow and he fired off a shot that only skimmed the cheek of his target. Legolas growled in frustration and pain as he quickly aimed another arrow – what was wrong with him? He never missed a shot – even with a bad shoulder. He pulled back and fired again and watched with relief as this time the arrow sank in between the shoulders blades of his target.

Legolas gave a quick glance round the clearing which was now a miniature battlefield. Nearly all of his warriors were still on the ground having been forced to engage in hand to hand combat. Only Feren had made it into a tree from where Legolas could see he was missing his some of his shots badly. Arrows were also being shot now by Celegil, Thoron and Faervel who were all now awake but judging by their wildly flying arrows – affected by the same malady that seemed to have robbed the rest of the troop of their elven poise and agility.

With a pained grimace Legolas shot another arrow into the arm of a man who was about to stab Magoldir in the back. Damn, he'd been aiming for his neck. Legolas swallowed thickly. This was not good not good at all. He needed to get his warriors into the trees.

He gave another rallying cry, "Horses attack – _maetho_! _Dago_! Warriors to the trees – now, now, now!"

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sy telir – They're coming
> 
> Tiro – Look out
> 
> Maetho – Fight
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Edraith enni – Save me
> 
> Dago - Kill


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fighting continues...

The horses stormed into action hooves flying wildly – they had heard the Prince's cry and would do all they could to help their Elven companions. They were all war horses, exceptionally tall, sleek and very well trained in the battle arts. They spread out each one intent on protecting the vulnerable elves on the ground.

The men clearly had not expected this as several were caught off guard and found themselves experiencing Elven steeds in all their glorious fury. The men broke their formation, momentarily forgetting the elves and they made haste to get out of the way of the enraged horses.

Satisfied with the havoc the horses were creating Legolas was about to command his troops up into the trees again when he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. No, no, no – it could not be. He would have sensed them wouldn't he? Legolas pivoted on the spot to look behind him. He nearly wept with frustration – _Elbereth_ above couldn't the _Valar_ give them a minutes respite?

There, less than two metres away a spider stared at him through its eight beady little eyes. Legolas wasted no more time flinging the arrow he was going to shoot directly into one of the beast's eyes abandoning his bow and switching to his long knives with only a minor amount of fumbling and a huge amount of pain in his throbbing shoulder.

"Ungoliant's spawn are upon us," he yelled as he furiously lashed out at the hairy legs that were determined to latch onto him.

Legolas lashed out again slicing off one of the beasts legs, "Men or spiders kill whichever is closest. _Gurth enin goth_!"

**~o~**

Aldred hadn't expected the she elf he'd grabbed to put up such a struggle – she was so thin and delicate looking he'd expected her to freeze in fear once he'd placed his sword at her throat and give in quietly.

Instead she had screamed causing the male elf she was with to spin round and charge towards them. Elias had sprung up and engaged the male leaving Aldred to subdue the she elf he held roughly against his chest. The threat of cold steel had done nothing to subdue her however and she had kicked out behind her – hard. She caught Aldred in the shin and he gave a howl of pain yet his cruel grasp on her hair hadn't loosened. Instead he yanked on the thick braid all the harder causing Hadril's head to fly backwards. She had no time to do anything as Aldred brutally smashed the hilt of his sword into her temple.

The she elf went limp in his arms instantly and Aldred took a quick glance round him. Elias and his elf continued to battle and it looked as if his young scout were winning too as he stabbed the elf in its stomach. Seeing no one else was paying him any attention Aldred quickly retreated back the way he had come and once a good few hundred yards away he placed the she elf in his arms under a bush, satisfied that she would not awaken any time soon.

Aldred tightened his belt and wiped his brow as he strode off back towards the melee. He had a golden haired elf to capture and he would not fail. That was the elf he valued above all for he would fetch him an enormous amount of money. Yes Aldred would not let that elf slip from his grasp.

Aldred startled as he suddenly heard running footsteps coming towards him. He braced himself feet planted firmly as he poised himself to attack. He relaxed however as he saw Elias coming crashing through the brush an elf draped across his back. Elias was very nearly bowed under the weight of the elf on his back and he grinned in relief to see Aldred.

"Captain! Here, look another – I know he was not on our list but another elf to sell at auction won't hurt our prospects will it?"

Aldred smiled his terrible smile, "No it certainly won't boy. Quick stash him under that bush there with the she elf. We'll be back. In the meantime boy I need to make sure none of those buffoons have hurt my golden elf."

Elias hurried to do as he'd been instructed and with a mighty heave he flipped Arasson off his back and dumped him with a complete lack of care next to Hadril. Elias couldn't help the shiver that raced down his spine as he looked at the fair bloodied faces before him. It had been a long time since he'd been so close to an elf.

Elias shook himself and hurried to catch up to his Captain – glad to no longer be in such close proximity with the Eldar.

The two men gripped their weapons tighter before throwing themselves back into the fray.

**~o~**

Faervel heard the unearthly screeching of the spiders just after he heard Legolas' frantic battle cry for them to fight both men and spiders- whichever was closest to them. He flipped himself round to look into the trees behind him and was most annoyed to see an entire cluster of angry looking spiders hissing at him in their foul speech.

What was with these creatures? Why were they seemingly everywhere these days? And really why did they have to show up now? Could the stupid beasts not see they were in the middle of an ambush?

Faervel flung himself at one spider and was quite surprised to slip and fall right at its jaws. With all the haste he could muster he rolled out of the way of pinchers dripping with venom as they came crashing down into the spot his neck had occupied two seconds ago. The spider's fangs were stuck in the wood and Faervel was quick to behead it before kicking its bulbous body out of the tree down to the ground below where it landed with a satisfying dull thud.

He had no time to feel smug as he was very nearly thrown from the tree himself as another of the hairy beings whacked him across his back with its foreleg. It was only by the tree shifting its branch to catch him that he did not end up splattered on the ground next to the spider below. Faervel grabbed a dagger from his boot and charged at the spider who had dared to attack him. Brandishing the small knife in a threatening manner he lunged forward with the intent of stabbing the beast in one of its eyes when the spider easily dodged him and instead reached out with a bristly leg to knock his dagger from his hand. Faervel gaped before he grabbed the branch overhead and hauled himself out of the way of the spider. It took a lot more effort than Faervel was used to and he was nearly grabbed by the spider as he franticly scrambled upwards.

Faervel did not understand. What had happened? Why had he woken up to sounds of screaming, shouting and fighting? Why hadn't he been woken sooner by those on watch? Most importantly why was he so slow? The beast currently chasing him higher into the tree had dodged him so easily. It was shameful. And now here he was scrambling round trying to avoid the clutches of this accursed spider. He was stumbling and slipping and could not understand why he moved with so little of the grace he was used to.

Faervel was jolted from his musings by his current precarious situation and stomped down hard on the tip of a leg that was desperately trying to grab hold of him. He needed to get to his long knives which he had foolishly left in the tree next to this one. How stupid of him – that was a basic rule – carry your weapons with you at all times. Faervel pulled an arrow from his quiver and decided he needed to get back on the offensive. He'd not let this creature chase him through _his_ trees any longer.

He whipped round and attacked the spider who had clearly not expected him to do anything else besides flee. He stabbed and slashed aiming for all the sensitive parts on the spiders foul body – he needed to be rid of this beast. For he suddenly remembered the condition of Legolas' shoulder. He had to get to his friends side. Legolas was not well and he should not be fighting; Faervel had to protect him – he would not fail in his promise to Thranduil – not this day.

With a renewed surge of energy Faervel dispatched his spider now using two arrows in place of daggers. He shoved the spiders' body off the branch and sent it crashing into two smaller ones below which had been trying to close in on him as well. Using the brief respite he hastily ran through the branches and tried his best not to lose his balance in his mad dash towards his knives. He grabbed them, spun round to face another two spiders and smiled menacingly. They should not have followed him – they had picked on the wrong elf. He attacked.

**~o~**

Legolas' shoulder was screaming at him. It screamed at him to stop his foolishness this instant and to lie down and rest. But he could not – there were spiders all around and he was hard pressed keeping them at bay. Stabbing yet another of the fat, hairy creatures in the juncture between its head and body Legolas leaped higher up the tree, feeling pleased when he stumbled only slightly – maybe this wretched and strange malady was wearing off and he'd be able to fight properly now.

Out of the grasp of any spiders for a brief moment he took the chance to look round him and assess the damage. It was carnage – three of their horses lay dead crossbow bolts sticking out of their crumpled bodies at odd angles. Of Morchant there was no sign and Legolas felt a stab of sadness through him at his horses' disappearance. Aithel, Magoldir and Camaendir were all still putting up a valiant struggle against the men on the ground. Whilst Celegil and Feren covered them from above. He could hear rather than see Thoron and Faervel fighting spiders in the trees near to him. There was no sign of either Hadril or Arasson and Legolas prayed to all interested _Valar_ that they were still on the right side of _Mandos_ ' halls.

Legolas had no more time to contemplate and assess as a deafening screech sounded right by his ear. Legolas spun round with a start still wondering how these beasts were able to sneak up on him without him feeling their filthy presence. There must be some dark spell upon this clearing – one that rendered him and his warriors clumsy with dulled senses. He blocked a jab aimed by a furry leg at his stomach and ran to a neighboring branch.

He could not keep this up for much longer – he'd put an enormous strain on his already badly injured shoulder and the pain was now breathtaking. Still he had no chance at respite as the spider crawled right up behind him determined to bite him with its dripping pinchers. He ducked, dived and feinted to the left before lunging and stabbing the spider's underbelly from the right. The beast shrieked and reared up exposing more of its soft underside to Legolas who gleefully and dutifully disemboweled it.

He'd just kicked it off the branch when he heard the dull thump of something landing next to him. He twisted lashing out blindly with his right knife determined not to be caught off guard and was surprised to hear the clear ringing sound of metal on metal.

"Peace Legolas it's me."

Legolas looked up fully now and was happy to see his friend grinning back at him. "Faervel, I'm glad you are here," he paused as they switched into their preferred way of fighting back to back, "but tell me _mellon-nin_ do you feel… um…strange?"

Faervel sliced off the tip of a leg whilst Legolas hacked off the other and they jumped down onto the branch below.

"If by strange you mean have I lost all grace I ever possessed then yes. And it is as if I am blind – I was awoken only by the noise of battle," he dodged an errant leg before continuing, "I did not feel the presence of any of these beasts nor the men."

Legolas left Faervel's back, jumped over their current nemesis and sliced its back open in the process before he replied, "Yes – I did not sense theses horrors were lurking in the trees – only their horrific screeching gave them away."

They had no more chance to speak as the spiders rallied just then and attacked ferociously. Legolas clambered upwards hoping to gain an advantage but was hotly pursued. He jabbed, stabbed and slashed at the big black creature following him. It seemed not to feel any of the blows Legolas landed and lashed out at him with its great spindly legs giving Legolas cuts over his hands, arms and face. Legolas was forced to defend and block even as he continued upwards. The spider would not be shaken though and Legolas sprang to attack again.

He lunged with his left arm and promptly felt his shoulder finally give way – the muscles giving a sickening pop. Sensing its advantage the spider made a huge swipe at Legolas who instinctively dodged backwards. To his horror he felt himself slip – right off the branch and into thin air.

**~o~**

Faervel had been keeping an eye on Legolas as he hopped ever higher even as he fought off some of the smaller spiders making crazy lunges and leaps at him. Therefore he saw it the moment Legolas slipped and fell and he threw himself to the edge of his branch before reaching out to grab Legolas catching his Captain's left arm in a firm grip.

Faervel's happiness at having stopped his friend's fall lasted only a second before he watched as Legolas' blue eyes widened in pain and he screamed. _Valar_! He'd never heard his friend make a noise like that before and he was so shocked by the terrifying sound that he let go.

"No! Legolas!" Faervel shouted as he grasped for him again but it was too late. In horror he watched as Legolas plunged through the branches to the ground below.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gurth enin goth – Death to the enemy
> 
> Mellon-nin - My friend


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas is captured and our elves continue to fight...

Legolas faintly heard Faervel's panicked shout just before he hit the first branch which immediately winded him and he could think of nothing but the horrendous pain radiating from his side when he hit another branch. He distinctly heard a rib crack that time and he gave a breathless cry.

The tree was frantically trying to arrange its branches so that it's beloved Prince would have as soft a landing as possible but of course it could move only so fast – and hitting wood with force still hurt. None the less it was still better than plunging to his immediate death and Legolas felt grateful for what the tree was trying to do despite the tremendous pain it caused him.

He hit the final branch with a solid smack that sent his world black. Legolas was completely unaware when he landed on the soft squishy body of a dead spider with a splat.

**~o~**

Aldred had been busy trying his best to keep out of the aim and reach of both angry elves and angry elven horses. Some would have called his ducking, diving and use of his men as shields as disgraceful, cowardly even, but Aldred did not care. He had an objective to complete and it did not include dying. That was what his men were for – they were a dime a dozen after all. Easily replaced. He cared not how many of them fell – he did not truly intend to share the plunder with them anyways – their deaths here simply made things easier for him. Aldred ducked a stray arrow before his eyes found his quarry again.

His golden elf. That was the one he wanted above all; that was the elf he would not leave this cursed forest without. For that one would fetch a mighty price from the slave traders of the East. A mighty price indeed – and then Aldred would be rich, rich, rich. He'd be able to disappear to some far off land to live in comfort and luxury. All Aldred needed to do now was capture him and escape this dreaded place alive.

He slipped behind a tree and looked up as he watched his golden target do battle with the blasted spiders. Although he could not be too angry with the spiders - they had provided a marvelous distraction and as long as they did not come down out of the treetops to attack his men he could care less.

After a cursory glance round to ensure he was not in any immediate danger Aldred looked back up at the battle raging in the vast boughs of the oak trees. Then to his immense surprise his prey was delivered right to him. The elf slipped and was rather vexingly caught by his fellow for a second before he was falling through the branches again landing with a soft, wet smack upon the grotesque body of a dead spider less than a hundred yards away from Aldred's current spot.

Aldred wasted no time and simply thanked his lucky stars, "Elias and Samer cover me now whilst I grab our main elf," he yelled in the direction of his men.

Aldred watched as the two sprang into position before he raced over to where Legolas lay unconscious. Aldred scooped him up in his arms before tossing him over his shoulder and began to scramble away. He was pleased to hear a small pained moan leave the surprisingly heavy body. He'd been afraid the elf might've been dead after that spectacular fall but no – luck remained on his side. Pleased with his fortune he ran as fast and as best he could back to the hiding place where he had left the other elves.

It was time to leave this place now. Time to get out of here and put an end to this - he had his prize and that was all that mattered to him.

"Blacwin," he bellowed as he rushed away, "Do not let any elf follow. Elias, Samer, Saveric - I have a need of you all, come and keep me covered!"

**~o~**

Blacwin watched as Elias and the gruesome twosome Samer and Saveric (as he had taken to calling them in his head) all leapt to follow their Captain keeping Aldred's escape covered as they rapidly fired arrows and crossbow bolts towards the elves remaining on the ground distracting them and giving Blacwin a little time to gather the remaining men.

"Rally and fight" roared Blacwin to the men, "Let no elf pass us, form a blockade the mission is nearly complete. Come give your all – no elf to pass us!"

The men rushed to form a blockade at their Captain's retreating back blocking off the route towards the stream. With weapons raised and frantic cries it looked like a last stand – however Blacwin had no intention of this being his last stand. He was determined to live to fight another day and he would see to it that as many of his men as possible made it through this as well. For although he did not look it, with his world wary expression, he felt it was his duty to see to it that the men under his command made it back alive. Aldred may not care for them one whit but Blacwin felt that he owed the men who were willing to risk themselves on their missions at least a bit of loyalty and for him that meant doing his best to ensure they lived another day to enjoy their mercenary gains.

It was because of this that Blacwin never had any trouble from the men – he had their respect and they never hesitated to do anything he asked of them. Like now. The men had formed a semi-circle of a blockade and were ready and waiting for his command to rally, rush and to fight and defeat these last elves if they could.

Blacwin gave the word – and the men rushed forward with a roar.

**~o~**

Aldred heard the roar of the men behind him holding off the elves and he relaxed slightly. Blacwin could always be trusted to get a job done. Sure, Aldred thought, he gave too much of himself and took to many risks when it came to protecting the men - but besides that one flaw Blacwin was the best second in command a henchman could wish for. Aldred almost felt sorry for what he was planning to do to Blacwin and the rest of the men; but then he shook himself – no he was a mercenary – and mercenaries got nowhere by allowing feelings to cloud their judgement.

Aldred gave Blacwin no more of his thoughts – he had the situation under control – it was time for Aldred to do the same. He reached the spot where the other two elves had been placed beneath the bush.

"Elias quick fetch our horses we must leave this place with all speed."

As Elias ran off to gather their horses Aldred bent down to lay the golden haired elf on the ground next to his fellow elves who were still unconscious.

"Saveric keep a watch on the ground and Samer keep an eye on the trees. I do not want those freakish, forest fairies sneaking up on us."

As the brothers made to do his bidding Aldred pulled out his knife and took Legolas' head in his hands. He was momentarily mesmerised by the striking face. Though marred with faint circles under the eyes and a rapidly swelling bruise at his temple the elf was still amazingly beautiful to look at. Aldred smiled thinly – yes this elf was the one that would fetch the highest price. Wasting no more time he grabbed a handful of Legolas' tangled golden hair and sliced it off with his knife.

Twas a shame to rob the elf of some of its hair and therefore its full market value but needs must. Aldred was no fool – he knew his men would not be able to defeat all the elves and therefore he would need a decoy – a distraction to keep the elves busy whilst he made off with the real goods.

Elias returned with the horses just then who were nervous and stamping at the stench of blood and death in the air.

"Ah Elias perfect timing as always here take the golden elf and secure him to my horse."

"How shall I secure him Captain upright or -"

"No tie him across like a saddle bag – he'll raise less suspicion in the unfortunate case we are spotted."

"Ai Captain."

Elias grunted as he heaved Legolas' limp body up onto his shoulders and stumbled across to Aldred's horse.

Aldred continued his work without as much as a glance upwards. He trusted these men for they would do as they were told allowing him to carry on with his decoy. He quickly pulled out the small sack he had tucked into his belt and covered the red-headed male elf's head with it ensuring his red hair was tucked up into the sack and out of sight. Then he took the long, fine strands of Legolas' golden hair and pinned it to the sack securely using a tiny dagger.

He leaned back to look at his handiwork. It would do. It looked like the blonde elf had been hooded – hopefully until the elves got closer they would never know that they were chasing after the wrong elf – and of course by then Aldred hoped to be well on his way far beyond the clutches of the elves.

He dragged Arasson's limp body fully out from under the bushes grimacing in distaste at the trail of blood that dribbled out behind the elf. He didn't really care that the elf was bleeding – he just hoped the smell of elvish blood wouldn't attract the damned spiders towards them.

"Elias are you nearly done? Give me a hand with this one here."

"Coming," was Elias' breathless and somewhat muffled reply before he appeared at Aldred's side a few moments later.

Together the two slung Arasson up onto Blacwin's horse and secured him with rope in a sitting position. Hearing a high pitched cry in the elves melodic and strange language Aldred turned to Samer.

"Samer summon the rest of the men – tell them to head west out of the forest and over to the Great River and into the woods on the other side. We shall meet them further along the river once they have managed to distract and kill the elves."

Aldred was already getting up onto his horse and signaled for Elias and Saveric to do the same, "Tell them to ensure they are rid of the elves before they head North up the river to meet us at the Old Ford. Deliver this message to Blacwin then show all haste to follow us. We shall be heading to the second village of Woodsmen. We will gather supplies and then make for the Old Ford. Show haste boy and go now, then do your best to catch us up and make sure no elves follow you!"

"What about that she elf Captain?" Samer looked at Hadril dispassionately, "Shall I bring her with me?"

Aldred's horse was champing at its bit and pranced nervously at the strange sounds and smells all around it. Aldred gave a strong yank on his reins before a quick check to ensure his prize elf was secured onto his horse.

Kicking his spurs firmly into his horses' sides he shouted, "No we have no time for her – this one elf will bring in enough money for us four. Leave her for the others – she will be their payment along with the decoy elf. Do not fail me boy. Go now and the rest of you follow me to victory."

With that all three were gone, splashing through the stream heading north towards the second village of Woodsmen.

Samer wasted no time and securing his sword in hand he rushed to tell Blacwin of the Captain's commands. He wanted to catch up to the Captain's party and his brother as soon as possible.

Samer was not quite sure what his Captain's ultimate goal was but he was very glad he'd not been put on the decoy party; because for all Aldred's brave words of destroying elves and getting rid of them Samer had a funny feeling he'd not be seeing any of the decoy party ever again. Elves were fierce, fey and feral, he had seen that first hand now and he very much doubted the elves would be happy about seeing their leader elf taken captive. No – he was sure that Aldred had just signed the death warrants of all the other men – and though curious as to why his Captain would abandon Blacwin of all people to this fate he cared not. There would be more money for him and Saveric. He just needed to make sure he caught up to them.

He crashed through the brush and had to immediately dive to the ground to avoid an arrow. He was back up on his feet quickly as he made a mad dash towards Blacwin. He would deliver his message and then flee. He'd not die today.

**~o~**

Celegil was fighting desperately trying to keep the spiders up in trees and away from her fellow _maethyr_ on the ground who were doing battle with the men. Men of all creatures. She had no idea how they had come to be here and attacking them. All she knew is one moment she had been sleeping as soundly and peacefully as an elfling and the next moment there was shouting and screaming and then chaos had ensued.

She had taken one look down into the clearing and had immediately grabbed her bow and sprang into action in order to help her troop. Or at least that had been her plan. What had actually happened was a near miss fall out of the tree, a shambling displaying in which she had fumbled for her bow and quiver before she set about 'helping' her troop by nearly shooting Magoldir in the head. Ai _Elbereth_ what had happened? When had she become such a poor shot? From the look of the wildly flying arrows being shot by Thoron, Faervel, Feren and Legolas in the trees around her she was not the only one who had lost their sense of aim.

So encouraged that she was not the only one fighting some strange malady she had focused her best and tried to be more successful with her other shots. It had worked for the most part and she was starting to feel confident in their winning when Legolas had yelled that there were spiders in the trees. Sure enough as she whipped round behind her she had seen a huge cluster of the beings and she had been kept busy with them ever since.

The lunged at her trying their best to sting or bite her and she did her utmost to kill them. She suddenly heard Faervel's despairing cry for Legolas but could not turn to see what the problem was as she ducked and rolled to avoid a sharp pair of pinchers coming her way. She made her move as the spider reared up and sliced it open watching as its innards fell out of its shell like body and onto the forest floor below.

All of a sudden with piercing shrieks the spiders started pulling back with one particularly large spider hissing and clicking instructions to its underlings. Celegil held her long knives in a defensive position even as she watched what remained of the black horde retreat back the way they had come hissing and screeching furiously all the while. What they were saying in their vile Black Speech made her blood boil. Re-grouping to march on the stronghold were they? She would see about that – as soon as they dispatched the rest of these _edain_ she would see to it that this batch of spiders were destroyed along with any others foolish enough to join them.

Still not trusting the arachnids not to come rushing back when her back was turned she kept facing them taking only a quick glance behind and below her. What she saw was the _edain_ forming some sort of last stand. She tore her eyes away and looked back at the direction the spiders were scuttling away in and feeling a little more secure she turned her eyes back down to the standoff on the ground just in time to see her great silver horse shot by a cruel spiked crossbow bolt.

"No!" she screamed in anguish as her beautiful horse fell to the ground blood spurting from his nostrils as he took his last labored breaths.

"You will pay _hû úgaun_ " Celegil screeched her voice raw with emotion as she leapt down onto a lower, branch took aim and fired.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Hû úgaun – Cowardly dog


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men flee, the spiders plot and poor Legolas hasn't got a clue.

Celegil's shot flew wildly and she watched in anger as it flew in the direction of another man who had the presence of mind to hit the ground and duck before he jumped up again and continued towards one who looked like the leader of the men. Celgil took aim again ignoring him – plenty enough time to kill him but first to kill the scum who had so cruelly butchered Celevon.

She took aim again calming herself just enough so that she could be sure that her shot would find its mark this time round and let her arrow fly. Unfortunately the man had moved so it came to rest in his shoulder rather than his throat as planned. The man yelled even as he was pulled back by one of his comrades to join the other men now making a dash towards the stream.

Celegil let her knocked arrow fall limp – she would hold onto her morals – she would not shoot this _adan_ in the back. She turned around, back to the fleeing men intent on finally getting down onto the ground and helping her troop put an end to this when she had all breath knocked out of her in a painful blow. Celegil gasped as she fell from the tree arms flailing and the pain in her right shoulder intensified as she hit a branch as she plunged downwards.

For though Celegil had her morals the man with the crossbow had none and had shot after her in revenge as soon as she had turned her back. Despite the pain flaring in his own shoulder he was satisfied with his work and he ran after his fellows hoping that a second elf falling from the trees would distract from their escape.

**~o~**

The spider commander hissed angrily at her underlings wanting them to hurry, hurry and back away to the safety of their nest. There they could regroup and recollect before heading North to rouse more of their kin who resided in the Mountains of Mirkwood. From there they would march upon the filthy elf stronghold. The elves thought themselves so superior, the commander fumed silently, and indeed her troops had let her down enormously allowing themselves to be so easily slaughtered by the elf scum. Still, never mind - they would rally a great force and show those elves that the children of her wonderful wretchedness Ungoliant were still a force to be reckoned with.

**~o~**

Aithel wanted to scream – this was a nightmare – Legolas had been shot out of a tree before being captured and Arasson and Hadril still were nowhere to be seen. And now Celegil had also been shot out of a tree. Biting down on a scream of pure frustration and anger Aithel shouted commands – she was in charge now.

"Faervel go check on Celegil. Camaendir, Magoldir and Feren you all ride with me after those bandits. We cannot let those fiends get away with Legolas. And Thoron scout the area- we need to find what has happened to Arasson and Hadril. You will follow after us if you have not found them. Quickly! Round up what horses we have left."

Thoron clambered down from the tree he was in made his way over towards the stream – where Feren said they had last been spotted. He slung his bow upon his back and whipped out his long knives as he headed into the direction the men had retreated.

Aithel watched as the _ellyn_ went to gather and calm their remaining horses giving them a quick once over for injury. Aithel turned to follow Faervel over to where Celegil had fallen praying to all the _Valar_ that she would not be coming upon a dead _elleth_.

To her huge surprise Celegil was standing next to Faervel shaking off his attempts to help.

"Celegil you are alive!" Aithel was pleased and surprised.

Celegil gave her a questioning look, "Of course I am alive," Celegil shook her hand sending droplets of thick black gloop flying. "I landed on a spider – they make marvelous cushions. Now we have no time to waste."

Celegil stalked off still shaking black goo from her person leaving both Faervel and Aithel staring after her.

Aithel suddenly ran after her alarmed at the red stain she could see slowly spreading over Celegil's green tunic, "Celegil wait you are injured. You were shot for _Elbereth's_ sake!"

Celegil turned round to give a shrug, "Yes I was shot but the shaft snapped off in my fall – its fine. We have no time I need to get back to the palace and warn the home guard – the foul spawn of Ungoliant plan to march on the stronghold."

The others looked at her horrified but Celegil waved an impatient hand, "And you all need to get after the men and Legolas – why are we still standing here?"

Faervel put a firm hand on Celegil's shoulder and forced her down to sit on the ground.

"Let me tend this else you shan't make it anywhere to warn anyone." Faervel's voice was flat and his eyes looked dead.

Aithel sighed as she handed him a healing bag – he would be taking Legolas' capture the hardest of them all. Those two along with Aeglosson were the very best of friends – more like brothers really. Aithel had no doubt that Faervel was currently blaming himself. That and plotting out hideous ways to kill the men who had dared lay hands on his friend.

Leaving him to tend Celegil, Aithel turned round to look at the horses – only four remained. She hung her head in grief saddened that so many of their faithful steeds had been slaughtered. She had no real time to grieve though as she had to decide how they were to follow after the men with only four horses between them. And what of Thoron? How would he catch them up? And Celegil – would she not need a horse of her own in order to make it back to the palace?

A soft whimpering neigh interrupted her musings and Aithel snapped her head up to see Morchant come limping into the clearing – eyes wide and rolling in lingering fear. Magoldir instantly rushed over to him calming the great war horse whilst looking him over for injuries. He'd been shot three times – twice on the flank by arrows and once on the rump by a cruel crossbow bolt. Yet he stood tall and proud even as his wounds were tended reminding Aithel of his equally indomitable master.

Aithel clapped her hands drawing all attention to her. They had given the men enough of a head start.

"Celegil you will ride to the palace on Morchant and both warn them of the spiders plot and tell them of what has happened here. Get them to send help."

Celegil nodded before making her way over to Morchant whose injuries had been tended as best they could. She mounted with a helping hand from Magoldir, "I will ride as hard as we both can manage."

Aithel looked doubtful then, should she send someone else with Celegil? She had been shot after all.

"Do not worry so Aithel – Faervel left the arrowhead in place as it is keeping the bleeding in check."

"Here," Faervel handed Celegil a small pouch stuffed with healing and painkilling herbs as well as a few rolls of bandages, "You may be in need of them. You should be fine just do not overuse that arm."

"Ai _Nestron_ , I shall heed your words," and Celegil gave a little bow of her head before praying, " _Berio ven Eru_ ," and with that she gave Morchant a light tap and they bolted out of the clearing.

Faervel gave a curt nod of his head, "The arrow head should hold and keep her from bleeding out as long as she does nothing to dislodge it. Celegil is tough – she will make it."

Aithel was not really comforted by Faervel's words spoken with no emotion but she would take his word for it – they had other things to attend to now. She looked round her, "Right Camaendir you will share with me as your horse is slain. Mount up. We shall leave Thoron's horse here for him."

Magoldir and Feren mounted Feren's horse sharing and Faervel leapt upon the back of his own mount.

After ensuring Camaendir was secure behind her Aithel gave her next order, " _Tolo ar nin. Gwaem_!"

**~o~**

Blacwin took another harassed look behind him and saw that still there were no elves. The sight did nothing to relieve him. In fact he felt even more nervous. Why were they not yet being pursued? Had the elves somehow managed to get ahead of them and were waiting in ambush? Or did they know that another pack of elves already awaited them? Blacwin gripped his reins tighter and gave his horse a kick to its sides. Faster they needed to go faster.

They were still out on the open plains and the sooner they got back under the cover of trees the better. Blacwin frowned thinking back on Samer's quickly shouted message before the pathetic excuse of a man had fled the scene. He had a bad feeling about the 'decoy' elf he had on the back of his horse. He felt even worse about the battered she elf he could see on the back of the horse in front of him – they had grabbed her even though Aldred had clearly abandoned her.

Why had Aldred been so keen to abandon the other two elves they had managed to capture? Even going so far as to use one as a decoy. Surely more elves meant more money? Hadn't they come out here to get their hands on as many of the creatures as possible?

Blacwin's frown deepened – he truly hoped that Aldred had not abandoned him and the rest of the men to the wrath of the elves whilst making off with the most valuable elf for himself. It would be a very Aldred thing to do after all. But whilst Aldred did not care one whit about his underlings he had always had Blacwin's back.

Blacwin forced his racing mind to calm. He and Aldred were long time criminals and as close to bosom buddies as it was possible for mercenaries to get. He felt a lot of loyalty towards Aldred and was certain that the other man felt the same towards him at least. The more sensible part of him sniggered at that. Blacwin shook his head determinedly. He needed to stop being so suspicious and trust Aldred's plan. It was sound after all – they would lure what remained of the elves away and slaughter them before catching up with the others and continuing on their way to their destination and riches.

And Blacwin was certain they would be able to slaughter the elves – they were outnumbered by his men and he had seen another elf fall from the trees as they left. The others would most likely be injured making them easy targets even if the effects of the flowers had worn off. Blacwin slowed letting his lathered horse get a chance to catch its breath. Yes – he needed to stop worrying – they'd be able to take on the elves and win – of course. Blacwin steadfastly ignored the part of his mind that laughed uproariously at that.

**~o~**

Legolas opened bleary blue eyes slowly before squeezing them tightly shut again. Ai blessed _Elbereth_ he hurt. It had been long years indeed since Legolas had last felt such pain. He sucked in a deep breath to try and clear his head but promptly started to cough as his broken ribs painfully alerted him to their presence. There was also the small matter of the sweet smelling cloth that was tightly wound around his face. Legolas hacked and gagged each movement sending bolts of agony racing through him.

Rough hands grabbed hold of him just then and he was yanked upright in a move that made his shoulder throb and stomach lurch. Legolas opened tired blue eyes to see angry brown ones staring right back at him.

"Elias it's awake. Dose him up again we need to keep moving."

Legolas struggled to get his thoughts together and remember how he had ended up in the clutches of these rough, evil looking men. He had no chance to do so however as another cloth, stronger smelling than the one it replaced was wound tightly across his mouth and nose. And the smell – it was familiar to Legolas somehow – lightly sweet and linked to these men? Legolas racked his brain to get his thoughts to line up coherently but soon he couldn't even remember what he'd been trying to do. His mind wandered and at last he gave into the sleep that nagged at him.

**~o~**

Aldred held the elf upright until its body went limp with sleep. He slung Legolas' body back over his horse and turned to face the men who remained with him, "We need to make haste and enter the second woodsmen village. We must take what we need and leave. There are less of us now. There can be no mistakes."

Elias spoke up somewhat nervously. "Captain what if we played at being lost and in need of help? Would we not have a better chance of swaying them into helping us and not fighting us? The woodsmen are tough and as you say there are less of us now."

Aldred begrudgingly had to admit that Elias was right they would not be able to take the second village with so few men. He half wished that he hadn't left behind (he'd abandoned them truthfully) any of his men at that first village – but then he had needed to ensure that none of the woodsmen or women escaped and went running to tell all and sundry to the elves before they'd had chance to flee the forest. No – that had been a sound decision – now he had to make another.

"Yes Elias you are right – we will truss up the elf as baggage and beg board for a night and supplies for the morn. Then we leave. We shall act as simple merchants who do not speak much Westron."

Aldred nodded pleased with himself, "First we need to look the part. Come I can hear a stream nearby, we must wash away all traces of blood. If we play this right we can be in and out and none shall ever be the wiser."

The men stirred their horses and followed Aldred's lead pleased that all was still going according to plan.

**~o~**

Meanwhile Thoron rode his horse hard and fast through the forest determined to catch up to his fellow _maethyr_. He had found no sign of either Hadril or Arasson – but he had found blood. Lots of red elvish blood that pointed out the direction the men had taken like an accusing finger. Thoron could see it even now dotted in amongst the mulch and leaf litter that covered the forest floor.

Thoron's already steely gaze hardened even further, he had taken some time to salvage as many arrows as possible back at the clearing and he was now imagining using them to inflict revenge and pain on the _edain_ who had dared to lay hands on his Prince, Arasson and Hadril.

They would pay. Oh yes they would pay dearly.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celevon – Celegil's horse – Sindarin name meaning Of Silver
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Ellyn – Male elves
> 
> Elleth - Female elf
> 
> Nestron – Healer (male)
> 
> Berio ven Eru – May Eru protect us
> 
> Tolo ar nin – Come with me
> 
> Gwaem – Let's go
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men


	9. Chapter 9

The Great River gleamed in the distance through the trees and Aithel slowed her horse's pace down to a canter apologetically stroking the lathered beast's neck. They had ridden hard and it was now taking a toll on their battle wary horses. She guided her horse to a stop next to a tree before leaping off its back and disappearing up into the tree branches above. She needed to have a quick scout of the area and see if she could spy where the men had fled to.

They had followed the general direction of the men towards the edge of Mirkwood and now as Aithel scanned the distance from her perch high in the branches she could see that the men had continued across the icy river and into woods beyond. Aithel continued her rapid assessment of the wider area even as her mind reeled. She had seen a glimpse of blond hair in amongst the confusion as the men had beat a hasty retreat. She frowned. Those men had her Prince and possibly Hadril and Arasson as well – they needed to free them as soon as possible. Aithel had no idea what those men wanted with elves but it could be nothing good. They had to go after their fellow warriors and yet…

Aithel bit her lip eyes still rapidly scanning everything she could see all the way up to the Misty Mountains far in the distance. She had never set foot out of Mirkwood before – none of her fellow _maethyr_ had - save Faervel. Of course Legolas as Prince had been to Lake Town and Dale with the trade envoys but even then his last trip and been at least a _yen_ ago. Aithel glanced at the woods across the river one last time before climbing down the tree to where what remained of her _dírnaith_ waited for her patiently. It looked like she would be the one responsible for ensuring their safety on their first trip out of Mirkwood. Would that it was under better circumstances.

Aithel dropped gently to the ground, "They have taken Legolas into the woods beyond the river. They may have Arasson and Hadril as well. We need a plan – we cannot just rush in there lest we be ambushed again."

Faervel nodded and spoke up, "You are right. They may very well have set another trap for us hoping we will blindly rush in to the rescue and that they can then pounce and slaughter us. No we must use all caution."

Aithel opened her mouth to reply but before she could utter a word crashing branches could be heard behind them as something approached at great speed. Aithel grabbed her bow off her back and knocked an arrow even as the rest of her troop whirled round weapons in their grasp to face whatever it was that was clattering through the forest towards them. They would take no more chances.

" _Sîdh_!" Thoron's horse leapt out of the bushes and came to a panting halt in front of them, " _Sîdh_ it is I lower your weapons."

"Ai Thoron it was you – for a moment I thought we may have been under ambush by the men again," Aithel lowered her bow and slipped her arrow back into her quiver.

She took in Thoron's frown at that and his exhausted horse that was still panting hard – he was completely alone. Aithel's heart clenched even as she forced her lips to form the words, "You are alone Thoron, was there no sign of Hadril or Arasson or have they… are they -"

Aithel simply looked at him despairingly unable to complete her question.

Thoron shook his dark head, "They were not there nor anywhere in the clearing but there was a sign that they may have been there."

Aithel unconsciously took a step closer to Thoron as she waited for him to continue.

"There was blood - Elvish. Quite a lot of it at clearing and there is a trail of it I have followed in this direction; but then I felt your presence and turned to meet you."

Faervel interrupted whatever Aithel was about to say grabbing hold of Thoron and spinning him so they were face to face, "Did you say you felt our presence?"

Thoron blinked a little startled at being so suddenly manhandled by Faervel but he nodded his affirmative even as he answered, "Yes I felt you."

Faervel clapped his hands together in glee, "Then that must mean whatever spell or affliction that was upon us is wearing off."

"Do you really think so?" Camaendir questioned hopefully. He remembered how disoriented he had felt on last watch and then during the small battle back in the clearing it - was not a feeling he'd enjoyed. He be overjoyed if whatever had affected them all so badly had worn off or been left back at the clearing.

"Well if Thoron said he felt our presence then it must be wearing off, for back at the clearing I did not feel the presence of either the men or the spiders. Think, that is how we were caught off guard. But if Thoron felt our presence then maybe our senses are returning to what they should be."

"Then why did we not feel him? We all grabbed our weapons ready to attack," Magoldir was almost scared to hope the affliction that had seen him fight in such a pathetic, graceless manner was gone.

"Because we did not take the time to feel we simple grabbed our weapons – which is understandable given our recent circumstances." Faervel would not be swayed.

"We can test this easily enough," Aithel was back in command. "If our senses and full abilities are returned you will all have no trouble in shooting the targets I set you. Everyone grab your bows."

Aithel rapidly shouted a name followed by the target and was astounded by the brisk, graceful reactions of each member of the troop each one hitting their target dead on centre.

"Aithel – small speckled yellow leaf behind you."

Aithel had already spun round and shot her target before she had even fully registered that Faervel had decided to put her reflexes to the test as well.

Aithel smiled as she turned to face the rest of her warriors, "Well I guess that answers that question. We are hale again. Quickly gather your arrows – we can tarry no longer. We need to plan, it is time to rescue our _mellyn_ and for those _edain_ to pay for their folly."

**~o~**

Curses and high pitched screeching filled the air within the spider's nest. Their lair was a series of decaying trees bound together by the thick, sticky web woven by the hairy beasts. Those who had survived the skirmish were having their wounds tended with a gentleness that would have surprised the _Eldar_ had they been witness to it. Those who had remained behind to guard the nest now made final preparations themselves to march.

Perched high above the spider commander watched all with her beady eyes. She was still fuming at how many of her underlings had been slaughtered by the elves. She clicked her pinchers annoyed, they had not even been going after the elves in the first place. They had been out on the hunt – for deer meat – not elf meat (this time) when they had run into the accursed beings; who had of course viciously attacked them.

She clicked her pinchers again harder this time. It was high time someone taught those prissy elves to stay out of Southern Mirkwood, could they not see that this part of the forest was now given over to the darker side of life? Why was it so hard for them to accept that fact and stay put in their stronghold? No, still they came here wreaking havoc and killing innocent spiders, orcs and wargs. Well it was time to return the favour.

The commander stood tall and high on her seven spindly legs (the eight she had lost to a cursed elf in a skirmish) towering over her underlings.

"Get into formation now – you've had enough time. We march to our kin in the mountains, they'll not refuse us their aid in teaching those meddling little elves a lesson."

She watched in glee as her spiders straightened out into neat rows organized by rank.

"Forward march," she hissed and they set off row by row, the trees they marched in shuddering though whether under their weight or at their foul presence it was hard to say.

Branches snapped and trees groaned as leaves were shaken loose by dozens of hairy black legs as the spiders got under way – the Mountains of Mirkwood their aim.

**~o~**

Elias gave his knuckles one last going over with the cold, wet rag in his hands. Finally satisfied he held his hands at arm's length and inspected them – perfect – not a drop of blood to be seen. He got up off the rotting tree trunk he had been sat on before making his way of to where Aldred was fussily cleaning his boots. Samer and Saveric argued in the background making excessive noise in his opinion. He held back a sigh; Saveric had been much quieter and pleasant to deal with before his younger brother had caught up to them.

"Ready for inspection Captain," Elias gave a small salute before standing up straight and staying stock still.

Aldred looked up clearly annoyed at the interruption. He flung his boot to the ground before marching up to Elias and circling him. Seemingly satisfied he came back round to face Elias before growling, "Hands – hold 'em out boy. Let's see if you got all the blood off."

Elias held his hands out again before Aldred gave an approving grunt, "That's good boy – now go tell those two simpering idiots firstly to shut the hell up and secondly get their flea bitten hides over here for me to inspect."

Elias gave a little bow before spinning on his heels to do as he was bid. The Captain was truly in a bad mood and Elias had no desire to hang around him anymore than necessary.

Having delivered their Captains message word for word to the brothers (much to their displeasure) Elias moved over to check on their elf.

He just could not help himself – he knew elves were trouble but yet still he felt drawn towards their captive.

Elias stepped round Aldred's horse to where the elf was draped over its rump. He slowly shuffled closer and gingerly removed the sack they had placed over the elf's head to keep what remained of his golden hair hidden.

Elias jumped back immediately; startled to see fully lucid and angry blue eyes staring up right at him.

**~o~**

Legolas' stomach lurched for the umpteenth time and he had to quickly swallow down his bile. It would not do to be sick now – certainly not with a sack over his head. He had come to some time ago after a particularly bad jerk that had sent pain racing through his battered body. He could sleep no more after that. He had no idea where he was save that he was in the hands of the _edain_ that had ambushed his troop and given the wretched rocking motion that currently had him feeling so ill he guessed he had to be on horseback.

Nausea washed over Legolas again and he bit his lip hard. He would not disgrace himself by being sick now – although he was sure it would amuse him to some extent to see how the owner of the horse he was upon would react to being vomited on.

Legolas felt the horse slow its movements before coming to a complete stop. He strained his senses to see what he could find out. He could hear the gentle trickle of water very nearby and guessed that the men had stopped for a break. He listened very carefully after that but rather annoyingly the men did not speak of any plans they might have. In fact they spoke not at all – apart from two voices arguing over trivial nonsense such as which inn had the best serving wenches.

Legolas wanted to scream in pure frustration – and anger. Why had he and his troop been attacked? Legolas listened again carefully and stretched his senses again. He could tell there were a lot less _edain_ in this group compared to how many had attacked them – perhaps only four or five. Why? Had the men split off into different groups? Or had his troop rallied and slaughtered the rest of the men? Thinking back to what he had last seen of the battle Legolas had to admit that that was a vain hope.

Also worrying his was that he could detect no other presence save that of the men. Where were Hadril and Arasson? Why were they not being held captive also? _Valar_ please let them not be dead, Legolas thought miserably. He had always feared this – feared that his troop would be targeted because of him. But then did this mean that these men knew who he was? Did they know he was Prince of Mirkwood?

Legolas's whirring thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt as he heard footsteps approaching his position. He heard the tentative approach and sensed that his hood was about to be pulled off. In a split second Legolas decided to keep his eyes open. He was angry with these _edain_ and he wanted to look upon the faces of his captors – now that he was lucid enough to be able to see them properly.

Legolas' eyes hardened with all his pent up fury at the ambush and his present circumstances. The hood was pulled off and Legolas resisted the urge to squint at the late afternoon light. Instead he kept up his glacial glare and was very satisfied to see the man who had lifted his hood jump and stumble backwards.

The _adan_ looked at him for a few moments more the fear in his eyes slowly being replaced by a pure, raw hatred. The young man took a step closer to him.

"Captain the elf is awake again – shall I dose him up and make him presentable?"

The man spoke with a hint of malicious glee to his voice and Legolas suddenly felt a small stab of fear. Dose him up. Those were the same words the men had used before putting that sickly sweet cloth over his mouth and nose the last time. That smell – whatever they were "dosing him up" with was the cause of all his troubles. Legolas did not know what it was but he knew that it was responsible for dulling his senses and slowing his mind.

An affirmative was given and Legolas did his best not to panic as the young _adan_ disappeared from his limited view. Suddenly rough hands yanked him upwards as the cloth wrapped round his face was yanked off. Legolas jerked his legs and was annoyed to find he could not kick out as his legs were firmly secured by rope. The young man simply laughed at his futile trashing and Legolas was enraged; he waited for the man to put his hands in front of his face to wrap the poisoned cloth around him and then he bit him. Hard. Hard enough to draw blood and he refused to let go. It was disgusting as the blood flooded his mouth but Legolas would be damned if he let these men do what they pleased with him without putting up a struggle.

The man's pained howl was music to Legolas' ears and he finally let the man's hand slip free from his mouth before he spat out the blood behind him. Legolas had no further time to feel smug as a painful blow struck him in the head from behind.

Legolas was still reeling even as his head was yanked back and the cloth firmly and quickly wrapped round his lower face again. The same angry brown eyes Legolas could vaguely remember appeared in front of him again.

"Listen here elf, I'd rather not have to hit you as bruises will take away from your market value but be warned elf – I don't lightly accept back chat and I have no time for trouble makers. Think of that as you sleep elf."

And with that Legolas felt himself being slung back across the horse before his world went dark as the sack over his face was replaced. It was only a few minutes later that his world went dark again – this time as he succumbed once more to the sleep forced upon him by his captors.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Dírnaith – Military (Troop/Guard)
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Mellyn – Friends
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Adan – Man


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our elves begin the first stages of their rescue and Legolas experiences water-boarding Middle earth style.

Elias was furious with the elf. The cursed creature had actually gone and bit him. Bloody hard too. He'd had to wash his hand again to clear away the blood before having it wrapped non too gently by Aldred all whilst Samer and Saveric sniggered in the background.

Elias still offered to wrap up the elf so that he looked like baggage but Aldred had irritably waved him off to the side doing the task himself. Elias looked at his Captains horse in front of him and he had to admit that Aldred had done a very good job indeed of making the elf look like an extra piece of baggage.

Elias' thoughts were interrupted as Aldred swung round to look at him, "You're up boy make it convincing – don't let me down."

Aldred maneuvered his horse then so that Elias and he were riding abreast and Elias swallowed. It was time for him to convince the woods people to give them shelter for the night and provisions for the morn and in all truth Elias was nervous. He did not like the woods people and their strong wills and defiant spirit. Personally he would rather that they took their chances with hunting and gathering whatever they could find until they got out of Mirkwood. But alas he was not Captain and therefore he now had to do Aldred's bidding.

It was surprisingly easy, these people were seemingly a gentler and calmer race of the woods people. They had been welcomed into the town where an old, grey haired couple had haltingly offered to put them up for the night in broken Westron.

They had accepted even though it was slowly explained to them that they would have to spend the night in what was essentially the couple's cellar. Still Aldred eagerly accepted as it was the only way they would all be able to stay together.

"We…ah leave you… ah… get ready food," the elderly lady pointed back up the stairs to the main house.

Her husband nodded, "We calling you… when food…ah is ready for eating."

Elias planted a genial smile on his face bowing slightly as he faced the old couple, "This is good," he paused and made a show of thinking up the correct words in Westron before, "We…thank you kindly."

Satisfied the elderly couple went back up the stairs shutting the cellar door quietly behind them.

Aldred waited a few more moments before he spoke in a whisper, "That was very good indeed Elias. I'm pleased. Now let us remain convincing for the rest of the night. We can eat and I'm sure they will give us enough provisions for us to high tail it out of this forest. Now let's get our story straight before we go up to eat with them."

Elias listened distractedly to Aldred's whispered instructions as he piled their bags in one corner. He came to their last 'bag' and stared down at it. Elias was still angry about the wound inflicted upon him by the elf and he would've liked nothing better than to be allowed to inflict a little pain of his own upon the fair being.

"Put the elf behind the other bags boy and leave him be," Aldred hissed interrupting Elias' malevolent thoughts.

"We don't need him and you getting into another scuffle," Aldred walked up behind him watching as Elias did as he'd been told. "These woods people seem to have no knowledge of what's gone on in the other village and I'd like to keep it so at least until we leave. So no shenanigans with the elf ok boy?"

Aldred glared hard at Elias – this was a sin Aldred clearly would not allow him to get away with so he simply nodded yes.

Aldred gave a nod in return a pleased smile on his face when the door was lightly knocked before being swung open.

The old lady beamed down at them, "Food is…ah ready…now."

The men all turned round to face her fake smiles firmly plastered across their faces as they gave a little bow before following her up the stairs.

**~o~**

Faervel's eyes gleamed in the dim night light as he waited not so patiently for the rest of his troop to be ready to put their plan into action. He was raring to go – anxious to get to Legolas' side and ensure he was well as well as finding out whether Arasson and Hadril were also with the men. Of course he was also eager to let the men have a taste of cold Elvish steel. Faervel relaxed his grip on his twin knives a fraction willing himself to be calm.

Turning round to face the early evening gloom of the forest he watched as Aithel gave last minute instructions to their horses the animals gathered close around her. Camaendir, Feren, Thoron and Magoldir had all finished strapping on their weapons and now came to stand near him. Faervel swiveled round and gazed out over the plains again eyes roving as far as the woods on the other side of the Great River trying futilely to catch a glimpse of the men.

He gave up as he felt Aithel stand next to him.

"All is ready?" he asked softly even as he reigned in his impatience.

"Yes," was Aithel's calm response, " _Tiro ven Elbereth_ _."_

" _Tiro ven Elbereth_ ," Faervel echoed the prayer along with the others and at Aithel's sharp nod they finally left the shadows of the trees and advanced across the plains separating them from their quarry.

Faervel turned his head looking back a little wistfully at his woodland home. He had left Mirkwood before - of course- it came with his promise to Thranduil yet it had always been to go into towns of men. Never had he left the safety of his forest to go further out into Wilderland - he'd had no desire to and no need to.

Yet he had need now and as he marched silently across the grassy lands with what remained of his _dírnaith_ he ran through their plan in his head once again. They had waited for evening to cover them with darkness and shadows so they could cross the open plains. They had their stealth back now and by morning they would be in place in the woods on the other side of the Great River ready to unleash the same fear and chaos upon the _edain_ that they had experienced themselves only this morning.

Faervel quickened his step ever so slightly – he could hardly wait.

**~o~**

Legolas gently stirred as he came back to awareness ever so slowly. His mind felt cloudy and he ached fiercely. He opened one eye just a crack and was disconcerted to see nothing but inky black darkness. He forced his whirling mind to calm and he took stock of what he knew or could remember. It took some doing but he finally remembered the men, the ambush and that he was a captive.

This last part made Legolas try to pull himself together more forcefully. He needed his wits about him if he were to have any chance of escaping these men. He stretched his senses out listening carefully to see if he could piece together where he now was. Unfortunately his mind and senses refused to co-operate and Legolas gave up with a small huff. His senses were dull, his mind was groggy and he hurt all over. _Valar_ how he hurt.

It was no mere dull ache like he'd experienced with his injured shoulder either. It was vicious stabbing pains shooting through his body and pooling in his chest. If only he could breathe some fresh air unrestricted Legolas was sure he'd feel lots better – yet the accursed cloth tied tightly round his face made sure that was impossible. His feet and hands were tied too and Legolas was annoyed that when he gave an experimental wiggle neither knot budged so much as an inch. He was also aggrieved to find that his hands were quite numb. Fat lot of use they were going to be then.

Legolas wiggled a bit more in an attempt to find out a bit more of his surroundings. He could feel hard ground beneath his back and yet it was not cold. So he was not outdoors then for the ground in most of Mirkwood emitted a cold dread chill and was one of the reasons the elves had taken to sleeping in their beloved trees.

Another little wiggle told Legolas that he was surrounded by objects that felt sturdy yet they were not hard like stone or wood. Legolas was still considering this little mystery when he was suddenly grasped and tugged into an upright position. His hood was yanked off and this time Legolas could not refrain from blinking in the harsh bright torch light that was held in his face.

The bright light was removed and as Legolas eyes slowly readjusted to the now dim light of the room he silently berated himself for being caught off guard.

"Hello elf."

Legolas blinked owlishly in the direction the voice had come from annoyed with how slow and confused he was. A young _adan_ grinned at him with a cheerful smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Wha..." Legolas tried but found his words were not only muffled by the cloth still round his face but that his voice had cracked from disuse and thirst.

"Oh shush, shush, shush elfie. You are not to make any noise or the Captain will be most upset."

The _adan_ looked down at a water skin near where he had crouched before looking again at Legolas, anger and bitterness in his eyes.

"You need a drink elf?" the man asked and Legolas was surprised at how he had spat the word elf using it as one would a curse. Legolas simply blinked slowly at him and kept very still. This was the _adan_ he had bitten earlier and the hatred and anger that had caused a small frisson of fear in Legolas' heart was still there in his pale grey eyes.

"Do you not understand me elf? Do you not speak Common?"

The young man gave his fake cheerful smile again and Legolas stayed stock still – maybe if the man thought he could not speak Westron he would shut up and go away and leave Legolas to deal with his raging headache and plans of escape in relative peace.

The man however merely shook his head before whispering, "Here let me make it easy for you elfie. _Pedin edhellen_."

Legolas' eyes widened with surprise and he studied the man before him more closely. Not many men knew Sindarin – even the trade merchants and peace envoys that came from Dale and Lake Town could only haltingly stutter out the traditional welcome butchering the words so badly it was often difficult to even understand what they had attempted to say. Yet this young _adan_ had spoken the words like he was born to them. Legolas' eyes narrowed as he decided to test the man – that had been a fairly simple phrase after all.

Legolas's muffled question caused the man to frown.

"I can't understand you with that mask on elfie, I will loosen it slightly but if you make any attempt to bite me again _I sigil nin egor I bau nin_. You can decide your punishment."

Legolas's eyes widened again in shock at the man's knowledge of his mother tongue and he was so surprised he did not even register the man slowly loosening the cloth wound round his face before hastily jumping back.

Legolas quickly blinked before looking at the man again – it seemed pointless to test his knowledge of Sindarin now – it was clear he knew it well.

Still his next whispered words were in Sindarin, " _Man i theled i cheniol edhellen_?"

A slow malicious smile spread across the young man's face, " _Ni elvellon_ _."_

The man chuckled as he moved around out of Legolas' range of sight, "Does that answer all your questions elfie? I am an elf friend so I can speak your filthy tongue just as well as you do."

Legolas snorted immediately regretting the action as he caught a whiff of the sweet sense dulling poison. Still he carried on, showing no outward signs of unease, "You lie _lýg_ _,_ you are no elf friend and I warn you _avof nathlad 'werth min daur v_ _î_ _n_."

The _adan_ merely chuckled again before suddenly the cloth was once again tightened around his mouth and nose being secured from behind. Legolas twisted, struggled in vain and he internally raged at himself for letting the man sneak up on him. Who was this man exactly? Who moved so swiftly, silently and who spoke the Grey Tongue as if it were his own.

The man came back into sight and peered down at Legolas a horrible grin on his face.

"Enough talk elf," he jiggled the water skin that had been on the floor at him. "You sounded hoarse – how about that drink I promised you?"

Legolas narrowed his eyes at the man again. Why had he gagged him again with the cursed cloth if he intended to give him a drink?

The man smiled wickedly before he uncorked his water skin and carelessly let its contents splash down onto Legolas's lower cloth covered face. Legolas turned his head but the man simply moved forward so that his was sitting on Legolas' abdomen before pushing him flat to the ground his hand clamped firmly around Legolas's neck. Pain flared in his abused body as the man roughly adjusted him into position. Legolas was firmly locked in place and the man again gleefully spilled water across the cloth that covered his mouth and nose soaking it. Legolas wriggled trying in vain to move his head out of the way of the water that was again being poured onto his face. The cloth was soaked now and Legolas tried to take a quick gulping breath. He panicked as the saturated cloth simply clung to his nostrils not letting him take in any meaningful amount of air. He let out a chocking cough as he tried for breath by inhaling with his mouth and panicked again as he found he could not.

Fear was rising steadily within Legolas as he trashed around beneath the man. The man however simply sat on him harder forcing Legolas to be still lest he aggravate his broken ribs further. The man finished emptying his water skin upon Legolas' face and he calmed a little thinking that this particular little bit of torture was over. His calm soon vanished as the man simply pulled out another, larger water skin. Legolas again tried to take a breath and gasped as he found it difficult. He had no time to gather himself as more water splashed down upon him and he trashed wildly as the sensation of drowning over took him.

He could not breathe, he could hardly move, the water trickled down his nose to the back of his throat making him want to gag and heave. Legolas tossed his head or at least he tried to - the man's hand clamping down more firmly on his throat added to the sensation of breathlessness. Black spots danced in Legolas' vision as he tried ever harder to free himself from the man's grip, broken ribs be damned. He would not allow this man to send him to _Mandos_ by drowning him on land! It was too stupid a way to die. Yet Legolas could feel his strength leaving him even as his lungs burned and screamed for oxygen.

Just then a door creaked open before a gruff voice ground out in an angry hiss, "Get off him!"

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiro ven Elbereth – May Varda (Elbereth) watch over us
> 
> Dírnaith – Military (Troop/Guard)
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Pedin edhellen – I speak Elvish
> 
> I sigil nin egor I bau nin – My dagger or my fist
> 
> Man i theled i cheniol edhellen? – Why do you know Elvish?
> 
> Ni elvellon - I am a friend of the Elves (I am elf-friend)
> 
> Lýg – Snake
> 
> Avof nathlad 'werth min daur vîn – We don't welcome traitors into our forest


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue mission gets underway and Faervel gets a surprise.

Aldred was furious at the sight before him – Elias who had feigned tiredness to their hosts in order to leave the table quickly – was straddling the elf and performing some sort of water torture on it. Aldred saw red as he hissed at Elias to get off the elf. Really what on earth did the boy think he was doing? Had all his men gone mad? As if what the gruesome twosome had just done upstairs wasn't bad enough did he also have to deal with Elias' nonsense too? He had thought the boy had some wits about him.

Elias jumped up and stumbled backwards the hatred in his eyes that had been directed at the elf softening and swiftly turning into fear.

Good, Aldred thought angrily as he stomped over and ripped the cloth from the elf's face allowing him to take a gasping breath, Elias should be fearful. Aldred needed this elf to be alive and reasonably healthy when he sold it at the slavers market. He would not stand for anyone doing anything to the elf that would lower its value. As much as he valued Elias' uncannily good tracking and stealth skills he would sooner slit his throat than miss out on his prize. He knew of a slave master who would pay generously indeed for elves for they were so hard to capture. Aldred would be able to finally leave the dangerous world of mercenary missions behind him. Yes, Elias would have to be punished at some point but first they had business to take care of.

The brothers grim had done something exceptionally stupid and now they had to make haste and leave before any of the villagers found out. Damn those two.

Aldred looked down at the elf on the floor who had curled into a ball as best it could with its limbs tied. It was taking in gulping breaths and Aldred noticed with rising anger that its lips were a faint blue. Damn all his men, he thought furiously, damn them all to Mordor.

"Get the elf bagged up again boy – we're leaving and if you harm one golden hair on his head I _will_ kill you," Aldred snarled at Elias.

"T-Tied up Captain?" Elias was confused – why were they no longer spending the night here?

The look Aldred levelled at him was murderous, "Yes boy, tie him up and ready our gear." Aldred sounded out the words carefully as though he were speaking to a dim witted child.

"Yes Captain."

Aldred gave a grunt before storming back up the stairs no longer trying to move quietly or act with any decorum and why should he? Thanks to Samer and Saveric, his resident idiots in chief, the couple who had offered them shelter now lay slain on their own floor along with their daughter who had popped in to visit her parents.

Aldred had to grit his teeth and remind himself of the reasons why it would be more helpful to him to keep the duo alive than to run them through with his sword here and now.

He strode into the living area of the cabin and glanced with distaste at the bodies on the ground. They could not be left there – the later the other villagers discovered the deaths of this family the better. Samer and Saveric shuffled into the room sheepishly and Aldred sighed, forcibly removing his hand from the hilt of his sword – he had hoped for an easy night but it was clear now that it would be just the opposite.

**~o~**

The call of a crow rang through the crisp, misty morning air. Faervel gave his shoulders a slight shrug, rolling them to loosen tension that had gathered in his upper arms before knocking an arrow and pulling back his bow string. His eyes were trained on the men below him who had awakened and were now about to have their breakfast and he had to smile at the timing.

Faervel forced himself to calm and to wait patiently for Aithel's next signal. It was hard however for though they had done a round of the men's makeshift camp they hadn't spotted a single elf out in the open. Faervel guessed they were keeping his fellows in one of the small tents they had pitched.

He flexed the fingers holding his bow slowly, he was impatient to kill these men and get down there to see Legolas again and ensure that his friend was hale. Guilt raced through Faervel at the thought of how much he was focused on Legolas and he gave his head a small shake. He was just as worried for Arasson and Hadril but Legolas - though he did not know it - was Faervel's charge. Faervel suppressed a sigh, Legolas had no idea about the pledge Faervel had taken to become his bodyguard, the oath he had sworn to protect Legolas' life with his own. In fact none knew save King Thranduil and Faervel's _Naneth_.

Faervel tightened his grip on his bow – he wasn't doing a very good job of keeping his oath now was he? If he had not been so weak Legolas would not be with those men right now. He was the one who had dropped Legolas to his doom after all. He had just been so startled at the scream Legolas gave – still – that was no excuse for his poor performance as a Royal bodyguard. Faervel was pretty certain King Thranduil would not be impressed.

He had no more time to reflect as the piercing cry of a crow again rang clear through the air. Faervel aimed and then let his arrow fly – straight and true into the neck of one of the _edain_ who stood as a lookout at the edge of the camp. Arrows showered down upon the men who panicked and scrambled about madly trying to get into the few tents scattered around the small clearing. Within a matter of moments most of the men had forced themselves into the small canvas dwellings hoping to take refuge from the arrows raining death down upon them.

Faervel shook his head at the futility of the men's actions – did they really think cowering in tents would save them from the wrath of the elves? He slung his bow secure upon his back before he pulled out his long knives and hopped down to the pine needle strewn ground. It was time for the men to face the consequences of their foolish actions. He advanced upon one tent noting in the corner of his eyes that his fellow warriors were doing them same. There were only six of them and around sixteen to seventeen men – arrows had taken care of six of them though so the odds were much more favourable now.

Faervel stabbed his knife into the material of one tent before dragging it downwards forcefully to reveal three men cowering within. He smiled at them before flinging one of his knives into the neck of the one furthest from him, bringing up his other knife just in time to block a rather weak blow from another of the men who had had the presence of mind to reach for a weapon. He lunged at the men brandishing his one knife wickedly. Both men scrambled backwards getting tangled in the material of the ruined tent and Faervel seized his opportunity. Before either man could blink he had flung his knife into one of the men's neck before he leapt forward, plucked both knives free, whirled round and slit the neck of the remaining man.

Faervel flicked a loose strand of dark hair from his face as he straightened and scanned the camp – neither Legolas, Arasson nor Hadril had been in the tent that lay destroyed at his feet and he wondered where they might be. His senses suddenly screamed at him and he moved just in time to avoid a crossbow bolt to the head. Faervel narrowed his eyes at the man who had just tried to shoot him and jumped to the side as the man shot at him again. Faervel slipped behind a tree and was about to look around it when movement caught his eye near the very edge of the clearing. Or rather a colour had caught his eye – a glimpse of gold – fine strands of it wafting in the air before being bundled up onto a horse.

Steeling his resolve Faervel pulled his bow off his back and jumped out from his hiding place swiftly dropping to one knee to get the perfect angle to shoot his current tormentor in the throat. That problem taken care of he shot off a few more arrows in rapid succession taking down another two _edain_ before he had to dart up into a tree as a sharp dagger was thrown his way. From the safety of the branches he shot that _adan_ too before swapping back to his long knives as he darted through the branches towards where he was sure he had spotted Legolas.

Of course the man was no longer still there but he was not very far ahead and Faervel caught up to him easily slithering through the branches above with ease before he dropped down in front of the man's horse causing the animal to rear up sharply. The _adan_ held on though and Faervel had to jump out of the way as the horses great hooves came back down and kicked out. The man swung wildly with his sword at him and Faervel blocked it, the force of the blow ringing up his arms. Perhaps, Faervel thought as he fended off another attack, he ought to have stayed in the trees - the man had the advantage of height as long as he stayed seated upon his horse and Faervel was finding it hard to attack in any meaningful way.

His back touched solid wood and with an annoyed curse at himself Faervel realized he had allowed the man to back him into a corner – a cluster of trees that grew tightly together. Still he would not give in so easily and with great regret he lashed out at the man's horse catching the animal on its leg and chest which caused it to fall back with a pitiful whiny. Faervel hated himself then – he was a wood elf – a lover of animals and it hurt him to have to hurt this horse but needs must.

Still the man was unperturbed as he forced his horse forward again and swung his sword with some force towards Faervel's neck. Faervel crossed his knives in front of him blocking the man's attack but no sooner had he done so than the man was attacking again. Faervel fought desperately as he blocked, dodged and wished. Wished he had told one of his fellows where he was going, wished he had stayed in the trees and shot this man from above, wished that he hadn't allowed himself to be backed into a corner. And more than anything he wished he could get to Legolas' limp body that he could see flailing around on the back of the man's horse like a rag-doll.

**~o~**

Blacwin continued his attack upon the elf who was putting up a crazy and desperate fight, and in all honesty Blacwin himself was getting more than a bit desperate. His arm ached fiercely with the strain of his repeated failed attacks upon the elf who infuriatingly blocked every move. It was also getting harder and harder to keep his horse under control the beast moving wildly around beneath him in an attempt to get away from the elf's wicked looking daggers. He would not let his horse move further backwards however as he forced the animal to press ever closer to the elf. Blacwin swung his sword again and was annoyed to meet with thin air as the elf had ducked and rolled back a bit further into the copse of trees.

Ha, thought Blacwin full of glee – that was a foolish move from the elf – it was truly trapped now. Brutally stabbing into his horse's sides with his spurs he forced the animal closer to the elf hoping to deliver a death blow. He was surprised however as his horse let out a horrifying, shrieking type of sound and reared up high until it began to fall over onto its side. Too late Blacwin tried to leap free but in his panicked haste his leg caught in one of the stirrups and pain raced through him as his left leg was crushed under the bulk of his horse.

**~o~**

Faervel had seen the death blow coming before the man even had a chance at executing it and with a fervent prayer to _Yavanna_ for forgiveness he plunged both knives deep into the throat of the man's horse. The horse had reacted as expected and reared up in horror and pain and blood spurted from the wounds as the horse fell backwards onto its wretched owner who was now caught fast trapped by his leg. The horse continued it's pitiful, ghastly whinnies as it jerked its head and legs in its final death throes.

Faervel rested his bloodied hand gently on the horses head asking it for forgiveness and uttered another prayer before putting it out of its pain with a quick flick of his knives. That miserable task done Faervel leaped around the horse's body and quickly cut Legolas free. Gathering his friend's frail form in his arms he whipped off the rough sack the men had used as a hood and flung it behind him. The glittering golden hairs went flying along with the sack and Arasson's battered face appeared as his own rich red hair tumbled free. Faervel's heart lurched and his stomach dropped – he was shocked that the elf he held was not Legolas but he was most shocked by the sight of how badly Arasson was injured. He hastily wiped one of his bloody hands clean on his breeches before running it softly through Arasson's flaming red hair and gave him a gentle kiss to his temple. He could not believe how terrible his friend looked – could not imagine what he had suffered. He quickly tamped down on his wild fear over what treatment Legolas may be suffering – he needed a clear mind and he needed to focus on who was here with him now.

Anger surged through him unchecked however as he raised his head to look over at the man who was still frantically flailing around trying to free himself from the bulk of his horse. He wanted to kill the man here and now but he was loathe to put Arasson down. At the sudden rustle of shrubbery Faervel's hand had shot out and grabbed one of his discarded knives even as he held Arasson tighter to him. He calmed though seeing it was Thoron who had come to seek him out.

"Arasson," Thoron gasped his fellows name before falling down upon his knees besides Faervel. With a trembling hand he tenderly stroked Arasson's hair. "Will…will he…will he live?"

Faervel gave a long sigh as he looked down at his fellow warrior with the trained eyes of a healer for the first time.

"I know not – we must get him warm and tend his wounds," taking another close look at Arasson he shook his head sadly, "I will do my best for him but truly I do not know how he will fare – if we are too late. Here take him. I must see to this _adan_."

Faervel had snarled the last word even as he gently transferred Arasson to Thoron's strong arms.

"He is not worth it Faervel – we have already killed all who did not surrender - do not waste anger on him. If you kill do so quickly and cleanly. We have found Hadril and she fares the same as Arasson. We must leave this place and get back to the Wood," he paused and looked over his shoulder, "We will be in need of your healing skills, do not be overlong. Kill him if you must then come. And Faervel worry not – we _will_ find the Prince."

Faervel gave Thoron a curt nod before he gathered his other knife and stalked over to the stricken man.

**~o~**

Blacwin stopped his futile struggling as the shadow of the elf leaned over him bloodied knives in plain view. Cursing all his luck and Aldred's back-stabbing carcass most of all he fixed pleading, desperate eyes on the elf.

"Do not kill me – I know where your leader elf is."

The angry dark haired being before him gave no sign of understanding and only twirled his knives in his hand menacingly.

"The…the golden elf – he had golden hair…the one you still seek – I know where he is – damn it elf do you understand me?"

"Oh I understand you perfectly well _môr-adan,_ " the elf snarled in heavily accented Westron, "and now you should understand me – if your information does not lead us to find our friend safe, hale and whole I will show you in perfect, painfully slow detail why wood elves are considered more dangerous."

**~o~**

Legolas cursed himself as a small pained moan broke free from his lips – he did not want to give the man whose horse he was upon any satisfaction. He had somehow ended up being placed upon the horse of the young _adan_ who had started water torturing him before they had been interrupted. Everything had then been a mad rush as he was swiftly bundled back up again and the men snuck out with him back into cold night. Legolas wondered at the swift, panicked change of plans - the men had been in such a hurry to leave that they had forgotten to 'dose him up' with that sweet smelling poison again.

And now Legolas could not decide if that was for better or for worse. He felt every bump and dip in the path acutely and he was sure that the _adan_ rode his horse into such pits on purpose. Legolas' shoulder and ribs screamed at him and his blood pounded in his ears so hard he couldn't focus on listening to his surroundings. His feet and hands had long stopped tingling and were now numb and Legolas was really starting to get tired of the scratchy, rough material of his hood against his face. The forced darkness was not helping either.

A winded gasp left his lips this time as the horse again jolted and pain speared him. Legolas grit his teeth as he heard the man chuckle – and he made a small pledge to himself there and then to remain silent no matter the level of his pain. He would provide no further amusement for these _ŷn yrch_.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naneth - Mother
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Môr-adan – Dark (Evil) Man
> 
> Ŷn yrch – Sons (ŷn is plural on ion) of Orcs (Yrch is plural of orch)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More pain is headed Legolas' way

"Halt. We should halt here and go no further during daylight – and here is perfect – we will make camp here and move again when dark. Now – hop to it!"

Legolas sent up a thankful prayer to _Elbereth_ as the horse he was upon came to a stop. Finally, he thought, the torment is over.

That had been one of the most awful rides he'd ever had the misfortune of enduring – still at least he had managed to keep silent – not a moan nor a gasp had left his lips for the rest of the torturous journey. And Legolas was sure that that fact had infuriated the young _adan_ – for he had ridden his horse ever more carelessly through every pit and dip. Indeed it was a wonder the poor beast was not yet lame.

Legolas was jerked out of his commiserations for the man's horse when uncaring hands grabbed him before depositing him with a thump onto grassy ground. Legolas was so thrilled to feel the grass underneath him he barely registered the pain his rough landing had caused – and could it be that the men were still in the Wood? If so then his chances of rescue were fairly strong. His musings were again interrupted by the same angry sounding voice that had called the men to a halt.

"Gods above boy, need you throw my elf to the ground so carelessly? I've told you already what'll happen if you harm him."

Legolas wrinkled his nose – he was nobody's elf.

The voice was speaking again (hissing aggressively more like), "And you two stop gawping and make haste with the camp – you're both still in utter disgrace for what you did back in the village. Crack on – what are you waiting for? A pack of wood elves to shoot us full of arrows? Get on man."

Legolas perked up – so they must indeed still be in the Wood or at least very near its borders – oh how he wished a patrol would show up. He strained his ears now to hear more of what the men would say but unfortunately for him they seemed to have clammed up, which was of course no help to Legolas at all. He needed to know more of their plans – all he knew was that the leader of the men did not want him harmed – why? Were they going to hold him to ransom?

With nothing else to hear but the sounds of a camp going up Legolas was left alone with his whirring thoughts as the men spoke no more.

~o~

Celegil peered up at the looming shadows of the Mountains of Mirkwood and bit her lip. She was really in spider territory now and knowing of their plot against her home she felt unusually nervous and even a little bit afraid. She was alone now after all.

Morchant gave an annoyed snort and Celegil smilingly patted his neck – no not alone she had a trusty steed at her side – but still… she was nervous. Usually the troops and patrols skirted round the base of the mountains deeming it too troublesome to traverse with their horses and the very real threat of spider attack. However now haste was of the utmost importance for Celegil and going through the mountains would save her time and yet –

Celegil clutched her right shoulder loosely and cringed inwardly as her fingers came away bathed in bright crimson. Arrow head or no all the riding had aggravated her wound and now she was steadily bleeding – a small trickle for now but it was blood – Elvish blood nonetheless - and the scent of it was like a dinner bell to spiders.

Celegil took a deep breath – she did not have time to waste – the abominable arachnids with their long reaching spindly legs could travel faster than her. Indeed they may already be gathering in the shadows, she had no choice, she would go through the mountains for it was the quickest if not safest path.

Celegil stroked her hand gently along Morchant's neck and gave a small tight smile as the horse leaned into the touch. She had other reasons for going through the mountains too – the blood loss was rendering her weaker hour by hour and Morchant was suffering greatly with his own wounds – going round the base of the mountains would add at least another day or day and a half to her journey. Celegil was not sure if they would both be able to hold out that long.

Route decided she squared her shoulders wincing as pain raced through her right one and blood trickled down her side – she would take the gamble, for her realm and her Prince she would risk all.

~o~

In a dank cave in the very mountains Celegil had decided to brave a huge gathering of spiders was underway.

The spider commander was hissing frantically in her high pitched voice trying to put her point across. For the unexpected had happened – she had met with fierce resistance to her plans to march upon the elf stronghold. The spider chief of the mountain clans had refused her outright, said that he would not risk the wrath of the elves, said that the elves had not come to his mountains for long years, and said that he would not send his troops.

It had been all the spider commander could do to not attack him there and then – that would teach that pompous, overfed sorry excuse of an arachnid. But no – she had to hold back – she needed his troops or what remained of hers would be decimated by the elves. Even worse they would have to turn tail and retreat to their nest – shamefaced and then her rule would be questioned and most likely overthrown.

No, she could not have that, she had killed far too many to get to her position to let it go easily. Gathering what remained of her limited patience she batted the lashes of her eight calculating eyes as she put forth her plan from a different angle.

Unbeknownst to them all an elf began her descent up the mountain path.

~o~

Legolas gave a small shrug of his shoulders trying to ease the dull ache that had settled in them but winced when pain flared in his injured shoulder and he gave up with a huff. He was in so much pain, he was thirsty and he was really getting fed up of being forcibly kept in the dark. He was a creature of light – happiest when he could rejoice in the rays of _Anor_ , _Ithil_ and _Elbereth's_ stars – the darkness cast by his hood was truly infuriating and he wished the men would remove it.

Legolas stilled as he heard footsteps approaching his position.

"Ok Saveric – I'll take last watch now, you take your rest."

Legolas stiffened at the sound of the young _adan's_ voice before he mentally chastised himself for feeling nervous around a man who had not yet even seen thirty summers. Legolas forced his racing heart to calm, after all he had no real reason to be nervous – the young man couldn't harm him, not with his threatening boss sleeping nearby. So reassured Legolas went back to his current favorite pastime of imagining all the ways in which he would kill his captors.

Light suddenly blinded him and it took a few seconds for Legolas to realise his hood had been lifted. He blinked rapidly trying to get his eyes to adjust and the world back into focus. He was annoyed at the little shudder of nervousness that raced through him at the sight of the young man's face peering down at him from above.

" _Mae govannen_ elf – thought I'd give you a brief respite from the dark – I know how fragile you creatures of light can be. Wouldn't want you to fade on us now would we elfie? The Captain would be most displeased."

Legolas did not reply but took the time to truly study the leering face above him. Lightly tanned skinned pointed to a life spent mostly out of doors but it was the soft, pale grey eyes peering at him intently that led Legolas to his answer. A man who spent most of his time outdoors with pale grey eyes and who spoke the Grey Tongue as it was his own. Of course, he had to be a Ranger of the North. Legolas narrowed his eyes at the man – why was he here with these bandits then? He had learnt in his lessons long ago that the Rangers were about the only _edain_ that could be trusted. Why then was this one, clearly well trained by elven kin, now given over to darkness?

Legolas made as if to speak and of course all his words were horribly muffled by the cloth wound round his lower face. Hoping that the _adan_ would take the hint that he wanted to speak to him Legolas continued raising his voice to the highest volume his parched throat would allow.

"Stop that noise elf, are you trying to wake everyone?"

Legolas quieted as the man approached and gingerly removed his mask. Legolas opened his mouth to begin to demand the _adan_ explain all to him when a thick piece of rope was promptly shoved into his mouth and tied round the back of his head. His eyes widened in surprise and he tried to shout out in vain for the rope had effectively gagged him.

Wild fear grabbed at Legolas' heart now – for if the _adan_ intended to play his water torture games with him again all gagged like this he would surely drown. He trashed round desperately wanting to somehow get away from the man – of course he made no true progress for he was very well secured bound by both hands and feet. Still he tried and wriggled round furiously until he felt the cold press of steel against his throat.

"Hold still elf and be silent or you'll be very sorry – I can slit your throat and be gone before Aldred even awakes to see what I've done. Do not think his orders will keep you safe from my hand."

The man removed his knife as Legolas stopped his writhing round.

"The Captain plans to sell you at a slavers market and he needs you to be looking your prettiest to fetch the highest price – he'll want few marks upon you – but believe me elf I can cause you pain without leaving much evidence of it."

Legolas' mind reeled – a slaver's market? He was to be sold into slavery? He would have laughed at the absurdity of it all if it wasn't for the horrifying reality he found himself currently in – if he wasn't found before these men left the Wood a life of slavery was indeed in his future. He was trying very hard to keep calm, for panic would not help him now but truly his situation looked grim indeed. He did not even know how many, if any of his _maethyr_ remained in the land of the living- rescue may or may not be coming.

Legolas tipped his chin up defiantly staring into the man's heartless grey eyes – he'd have to find a way out of this himself. He was a Prince, Legolas Thranduilion and he would be damned to the black pits of Mordor if he allowed himself to be sold into slavery by these mere vagabonds.

"Always you elves are so defiant, so proud and so noble. Well let's just see if I can break you of that."

Legolas kept his glare haughty and defiant even as his heart pounded faster as the man leaned in closer to him.

"Keep nice and quiet now elfie – remember I will kill you and be gone – your death is nothing to me and Aldred my good Captain is a sound sleeper."

Legolas tried to give a scathing remark but found he could not – his tongue was secured by the rope to the bottom of his mouth making words impossible. The man merely smiled at his soft garbled noise before holding up a tiny dagger to Legolas' face. Legolas frowned wondering what the man meant to do with it – after all cuts by a dagger would leave a mark.

The man smiled before settling himself down comfortably on Leoglas' bruised mid-section watching as a small pained puff of air left him.

"Open wide elfie."

Legolas' bottom lip was suddenly grasped by the man who drew the tiny dagger down it in one quick swipe. Pain and blood flooded his mouth and the _adan_ quickly did it again and then several more times in quick succession. The coppery tang of blood filled Legolas' mouth as small rivulets of it ran back into his mouth and down his throat – disgusting. Yet Legolas could only swallow in order not to gag on it. The man gave a small nod seemingly satisfied and let go of his abused lip only to grasp his upper one and begin to do the same.

Sharp pain marked each cut left behind by the small dagger and Legolas's lips were soon throbbing in time to the beat of his heart.

He wriggled trying to free his maltreated lip but the man simply placed one hand across Legolas' ribs and pressed down firmly until Legolas gave a choked gasp of pain.

"I know you have a broken rib or two elf – stop moving lest you want to add to that figure."

Legolas stopped moving but tried to bite the man's fingers with a quick sharp nip of his teeth. However the man's fingers were never in any danger as the thick rope in Legolas' mouth ensured he was unable to bring his teeth together.

The young man gave a soft chuckle, "Such a testy one you are – and such a fan of using your teeth against your enemy – I think I may take one of them from you and keep it as a trophy. To mark surviving Mirkwood's man-eating elves."

Legolas' eyes widened – what did the _adan_ mean by taking one of his teeth? Surely he did not mean to extract one of his teeth here and now!

Legolas struggled to resist as the man forced his mouth open wider before tapping his small dagger against Legolas' left canine tooth.

"This one would make a beautiful souvenir elf, and you needn't worry I know it'll grow back in a week or so – you elves are odd like that."

With no further ado the man brought up the hilt of his larger knife and smashed it into Legolas' mouth causing him to see stars. _Elbereth_ above the pain was breathtaking.

Legolas was still trying to even his breathing when the man gave him another fierce smash in the mouth. Searing pain followed as the man pulled harshly on the loosened tooth plucking it out of his bloodied mouth.

Legolas tried in vain to free his tongue so he could spit out the blood that he was so very tired of tasting. Its taste along with the pain raging in his mouth and head made him feel horrifically nauseous. Legolas closed his eyes fighting desperately to re-gain control of his body and master the pain.

He would have screamed had he not been gagged as his mouth was forcibly pulled open again by the man. Legolas open bleary pain filled eyes to look up at his sadistic captor.

"We'll just rinse your mouth out for you now elfie. I don't want you getting any infections."

Legolas' pain racked brain was still deciphering the man's words when what felt like pure liquid fire was poured into his mouth. The bitter taste of mannish alcohol vaguely registered as Legolas fought to get the offending burning liquid out of his mouth tossing his head to the side since he could not spit.

Finally the weight on his abdomen removed itself and Legolas cast tortured eyes up at his captor.

The man smiled brightly down at him before holding up something small, mostly pearly white and also a little bit bloody between his fore finger and thumb. His tooth. That son of an orc had _his_ tooth.

Legolas glared then at the man a sudden hatred bubbling up and burning fiercely within him and he clung to it as it allowed him to take the focus off his mounting and all-consuming pain.

"I shall put it on a chain elf – it shall be a fine looking bit of jewelry indeed."

The man tried to sound cock-sure but Legolas could tell that his heated stare was unnerving the _adan_. In too much pain to do anything else Legolas simply glowered at the man as he bent to hide his crimes by tying the mask back around his lower face before replacing his hood. Once inside the dark safety of his hood Legolas let his eyes slip closed in agony as he sternly fought back tears of overwhelming pain and misery.

He was a Prince and he would not cry lest those _edain_ see the tear tracks across his face and crow over his misery but _Valar_ the pain was so intense.

 _Elbereth_ please _anno dulu enni_ , Legolas prayed as he gave into the dark heaviness of pain induced sleep.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adan – Man
> 
> Anor – Sun
> 
> Ithil – Moon
> 
> Mae Govannen – Well met
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Anno dulu enni – Help me


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Thranduil...

She was being stalked; Celegil could feel it – her tingling senses warning her that she was being watched. Still she grit her teeth and carried on giving Morchant a soft tap on his midnight black rump to indicate that she wanted to pick up the pace. Morchant gave a small wearied whiny and Celegil felt bad but they were so close to the stronghold now for the decision to cut through the mountains had really paid off and she had met no trouble on the path. She had pushed on straight through the night ignoring her body's (and Morchant's) demands for rest and now she was nearing the end of the Elf Path and getting ever closer to the entrance to the Stronghold.

"We will make it Morchant," Celegil patted his neck fondly, "I am sorry to have pushed you so _mellon-nin_."

There was a rustle of leaves in the trees behind them and Morchant turned his head to look back. Celegil looked too though she could not see much in the dense foliage; she was getting ever weaker and her vision was no longer as sharp. Gently she laid her hands along the sides of Morchant's head and pulled softly so that he was facing forward again.

" _Avo gesto an drastad mellon-nin; tôl anlen_."

Celegil leaned forward into Morchant's range of vision, "Please gather your strength now and let us ride hard for the palace Morchant – I know I ask a lot but if we go now we may yet make it into safe territory before they can get close enough to attack."

Morchant gave a firm nod of his head as though agreeing and Celegil gave a small laugh despite the fact they were about to run for their lives – Legolas' horse was so very spirited and funny. She sobered at the thought of her Prince and she hoped that the others had managed to find him.

She tapped at Morchant gently getting him to move again and as expected she heard the soft rustling sound of leaves. The _yngyl_ probably thought they were being stealthy and quiet but Celegil's fine hearing had not left her yet – she could hear them loud and clear. With much pain and wincing she pulled her bow off her back and grabbed an arrow. It would be excruciatingly painful but if it bought them time and reduced the number of spiders on their tracks then Celegil was prepared to shoot – shoulder be damned.

She peered into the trees hoping to be able to discern exactly how many spiders were on their tail but was unable to see much detail at that distance. Celegil sighed, her health was fading - and fast – it was time for them to flee.

" _Noro hi_ Morchant. _Noro_!"

The thunderous sound of Morchant's hooves on the path mingled with the rustling of leaves and the creaking and cracking of branches as the spiders now gave chase in earnest.

**~o~**

Thranduil was bored. He was bored and to top it all off his neck was getting stiff from sitting in the same position for so long with one of the cursed, heavy official crowns Arahaelon always insisted he should wear in meetings with Men upon his head. As it was Spring Thranduil would usually wear a crown of bluebells, snowdrops or other spring flower, but because he was to attend this trade meeting with the Men of Esgaroth Arahaelon had insisted he wear the official spring crown of the House of Oropher. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry – tall, spiked _mithril_ in the shape and style of twigs – dotted throughout with white gems. Small blue topaz gems were arranged among them along with pale green tourmaline stone in the shape of many delicate bluebells.

It was a pretty piece but the sheer amount of gems made it heavy – which of course was not helping Thranduil's mood any. He had been sitting here with these men since the crack of dawn having been forced to suffer through a welcoming breakfast with them before they plunged straight into the trade talks.

Damn Arahaelon, thought Thranduil with no real malice – his regent was one full millennia older than him and was just about the only _ellon_ on this side of the Sundering Seas that Thranduil would take instructions or orders from. Still that did not mean that he was thrilled with this particular instruction from him.

Thranduil gave a gentle nod of his head as he let his gaze land on the _adan_ currently speaking and he looked for all intents and purposes as though he were paying rapt attention to the man's monotonous speech. That could not be any further from the truth however as the man's words hardly even registered. This was so pointless in Thranduil's opinion –– the trade terms more or less remained the same all the time anyway. He wished men lived a bit longer so that they could have these re-negotiations every century or so rather than the every three years the _edain_ insisted upon.

Thranduil let his thoughts turn to his son. Legolas and his _maethyr_ should have been home two weeks ago but due to delays their replacements met along the way they were yet to show up having been forced to remain on the Southern Patrol for a while longer. The troop who was due to replace Legolas' had kept them up to date via carrier hawk but he had received no word from Legolas himself for a good long while now. Thranduil just managed to stop himself from giving a fond smile – for his son was just as bad at keeping in touch as he himself had been and still was.

Shaking himself mentally Thranduil forced himself to pay real attention to the proceedings unfolding before him – content in the knowledge that he'd see his son soon enough.

**~o~**

Morchant kicked out hard with his rear hooves so that the last of the _yngyl_ that had been pursuing them went flying back and landed with a satisfying thud somewhere behind them. Celegil grabbed hold of him for dear life as he continued his mad gallop towards the stronghold gates - for they were in sight now - the enchanted, gleaming marble bridge shone in the early afternoon light just ahead of them.

Celegil tried to right herself and sit up straighter so she could hail the home guard as Morchant clattered down the bridge but found herself unable to. The spiders had pursued them relentlessly leaping from tree branch to tree branch before jumping to the ground to give chase behind them. They had gotten close – too close – and Celegil had been forced to draw several arrows and fire after them – her shoulder had screamed at her in painful protest but she had managed to fell two of the beasts. There had been four in all and the other two had not given up the hunt, snapping and clicking their pinchers behind them. Celegil had been hard pressed to keep them at bay and although she had managed to kill another of the beasts lashing out with her wicked knives she had been bitten in the process.

She could feel it now - she hung onto her consciousness by a thread and unable to even sit up any more she simply clung onto Morchant's neck, tried not to fall off him and tried to get her thoughts in order. She had to get word to the King of Legolas' capture but also something else? What was it?

Celegil tried her hardest to get her brain to co-operate with her even as she slid further and further down upon Morchant's back. She had to remember – she must – if only she could hold out against the spider poison and beckoning unconsciousness for just a little while longer.

Suddenly Morchant came to a halt stamping and snorting, trying his best to catch his breath. Celegil tried to pull herself up again but found her muscles refused to co-operate and she swore to herself even as her body began to tremble – one of the first signs the spider poison was really starting to take hold. Still – she had a mission to complete and as she gathered her strength to make another attempt at getting up strong yet gentle arms closed about her carefully easing her into a sitting position.

The arms remained around her keeping her upright and Celegil found the strength to lift her head and found herself looking into the worried eyes of none other than Commander Aglardaer himself.

Perfect, she thought even as she tried to give a smile - which in all honesty probably came off more like a grimace.

"Celegil? Great _Eru_ above what has happened?"

Celegil watched as Aglardaer's eyes landed on Morchant before they darted back up to her, "This is Morchant, Celegil what has happened – where is Legolas and the rest of your _dírnaith_?"

"W-we were…attacked," Celegil was surprised at how weak her voice sounded. She coughed to clear her throat and continued, "M-Men…ambushed us – Legolas, Hadril, Arasson…captured – and then spiders."

"Spiders?"

Celegil nodded weakly – she knew she was not making much sense and she made a concerted effort to get her scattered thoughts together before trying again.

"Yes – the _yngyl_ plan…attack up-upon…upon the stronghold," she gave a great exhale of breath.

"Easy now she is greatly injured."

Celegil snapped open her eyes at the Commander's voice and she wondered when she had closed them in the first place. She was also wondering who Aglardaer was talking to when she suddenly felt herself being gently lifted before being made to lie on something soft on her uninjured side.

"That's it keep her on that side for her other shoulder is wounded – spider attack from the sounds of things; and please can we have a stable hand to see to Morchant – he has proven his great strength."

Commander Aglardaer's voice was soothing even when he was giving commands and Celegil could have easily fallen asleep to the sound of it there and then. She resisted though she had to make sure her Commander understood her message properly.

She forced her bleary eyes to stay open and grasped his sleeve.

**~o~**

Thranduil started ever so slightly as the doors to the council chambers were thrown open with a bang by his Crown Commander – a startled looking Bôr trailing behind him.

"Forgive the intrusion _Aran-nin_ – Commander Aglardaer requests an urgent audience with you."

Bôr's announcement was really null and void as Aglardaer was already standing at Thranduil's right side head bowed.

"Be at ease Commander."

Aglardaer's head snapped up and the look in his eyes convinced Thranduil of the seriousness behind his overly loud disruption.

Thranduil stood causing his councilors and the Men to jump to their feet as well.

"You will forgive the disruption," Thranduil inclined his head ever so slightly to the Men, "I need to see to this matter – my trades councilors will continue the talks with you in my absence."

"We understand Lord Thranduil," one of the Men piped up whilst puffing his chest out.

Thranduil glared at the man until the _adan_ could no longer bear the weight of his sharp Elven gaze and he had to look away. _Lord_ Thranduil indeed – the _adan_ thought too highly of himself and Thranduil was glad for a reason to be rid of the man's overbearing presence.

"Lord Arahaelon I require your presence," Thranduil turned to leave using the side entrance to the council chambers with Aglardaer, Arahaelon and Bôr all hot on his heels.

**~o~**

As soon as the door into Thranduil's study had closed he whirled round to face the three who had followed him one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Well Commander? Not that I do not appreciate your interruption of a deadly dull meeting but tell me - what is your news that it warrants such a dramatic announcement?"

Thranduil's tone was light and even teasing but inside he felt a slight nervous flutter, for Aglardaer was not one given over to histrionics.

"I do apologise _Aran-nin_ but I have had grave news," Aglardaer paused and swallowed nervously before he continued, "I have had news of the Princes' troop."

He stopped and Thranduil grit his teeth in frustration, "Do share Commander, and do not keep us in suspense."

"Apologies again my King," Aglardaer gave a bow of his head, "You know the Prince and his troop have been delayed in their return from the Southern Patrol due to their replacements meeting difficulties along the road. However they should have met by now and the Prince and his _dírnaith_ should have been here if not today then at least tomorrow."

Thranduil nodded his head impatient for Aglardaer to actually get on and share this grave news he had seen fit to disrupt his meeting for.

"Just a few moments ago one of Prince Legolas' _maethyr_ rode into the courtyard – on Morchant no less."

Thranduil's heart clenched; Morchant was Legolas' horse and the flighty beast would suffer none else to ride him except perhaps in time of great need or where explicitly commanded by his master. Thranduil forced his whirling thoughts to slow as Aglardaer continued to speak.

"Things have gone ill for them indeed – they left their patrol early by command of the Prince aiming to meet their replacements on the road. However when they made camp they were ambushed by a large group of Men and the Prince along with two of his warriors, Hadril and Arasson, have been captured."

Thranduil who had remained standing this whole time sat down very suddenly mind reeling.

Arahaelon gave his shoulder a squeeze in a gesture of comfort that barely registered with Thranduil and Bôr stood the tiniest bit closer to his King in silent support.

Aglardaer threw an apologetic and nervous glance at Thranduil before continuing.

"The Prince's remaining warriors have gone off in pursuit of the Prince, their fellow _maethyr_ and the men who ambushed them but Celegil – that is the name of the warrior who is here - has no idea how that hunt has gone but she said it has been two days since the ambush."

Thranduil put a hand up to his suddenly throbbing temple and removed his heavy crown with the other, "Send a message to the troop due to replace Legolas' and see if they have heard from or seen them since. Also send out another two troops to aid with the hunt and pursuit of these Men and be sure to include the best trackers – we must rescue our warriors and capture these Men alive if possible – I need to know who this new foe is."

"Of course my King, it will be done but there is still more I must tell you I'm afraid."

Thranduil looked up at his Commander and centuries-long friend before he gestured for both Aglardaer and Arahaelon to sit whilst Bôr poured them all wine.

Goblet firmly in hand Thranduil gestured for Aglardaer to continue. He sat numbly as he listened to how Legolas and his troop had been ambushed by Men before being simultaneously attacked by spiders. Spiders who had vowed to march en masse upon his Stronghold and who were now most likely gathering in the Mountains before marching down to attack them. He listened, quietly sipping his wine as he heard how both Celegil and Morchant had been cruelly shot by the Men before they had been stalked and chased by the _yngyl_ on their way back to the palace. Listened as he heard how very badly injured they both were and he breathed a little easier after Aglardaer had assured that both were being tended as they spoke.

He sat quietly; face a blank stoic mask but every word that fell from Aglardaer's lips acted as fuel to the rage that had been lit inside Thranduil. By the time his Commander had finished Thranduil was apoplectic despite outwardly looking as cool as the _Hithaeglir_.

"Thank you Commander," Thranduil turned in his chair to face his secretary, "Bôr call for the war council – tell them I want them gathered in the assembly hall within the next ten minutes. Commander bring to me the two troops who are to go out to search for the Prince and his _dírnaith_ and Lord Arahaelon have guards set within the council chamber with instructions to keep a keen eye on the Men – they are not to wander unattended by a guard at any time."

Aglardaer and Bôr both set off to do as they had been bid with quick bows to their King, Arahaelon however stayed put and turned compassionate eyes upon him.

"Thranduil the men will take offense if we put them under such obvious guard."

"I care not – again Men have proven how untrustworthy they are."

"Yes but we cannot assume that the Men here have anything to do with those who attacked Legolas and his troop."

"Attacked and captured," Thranduil snarled and when Arahaelon opened his mouth to speak further Thranduil held up a hand.

"Nay. I am sorry Arahaelon but with all due respect those are my orders – it would please me if you would fulfill them."

Arahaelon stood up and bowed low, gave Thranduil another fond squeeze of his shoulder to show he took no offense at his tone, before leaving to do as he had been bid.

Alone now Thranduil pillowed his head on his arms allowing himself a brief moment to be a not a King but a father whose son had been captured. It was not long though before he lifted his head a King once more and he ran long bejeweled fingers though his hair flattening any lose strands.

The rage that had taken hold of him had not left, it merely simmered away inside him and he used it as fuel to help him get up and do what he ought to instead of giving into the cold dread that lay in the pit of his stomach. With quiet yet purposeful strides he made his way towards the assembly hall.

For he had a son to rescue and enemies to teach a lesson.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mellon-nin - My friend
> 
> Avo gesto an drastad mellon-nin; tôl anlen – Don't look for trouble my friend; it comes to you
> 
> Yngyl – (Plural of Ungol) Spiders
> 
> Nori hi – Run now
> 
> Ellon – Male elf
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Dírnaith – Military (Troop/Guard)
> 
> Aran-nin/Aran - My King/King


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a simple and massive thank you to everyone who has reviewed and followed so far – I'm glad you are enjoying this and thank you for the tips and suggestions. I really am grateful and it makes my day. So again hannon-le for taking the time out to review!

Faervel watched as the last of the blood on his hands swirled round in the water before being totally washed away in the fast flowing stream. He kept his now clean hands in the cool water and closed his tired eyes for just a moment – just a moment to gather himself and his strength was all he needed.

For he was tired, it had been exhausting, energy draining work keeping both Hadril and Arasson in the land of the living especially during the short trek back to the Wood. Still they were back here now – had made camp, set guards and he had finally been able to tend to all of his fellow warriors injuries. Faervel gave a small sigh – they were in a bad way – Arasson had been stabbed and then his inert body had been shown no care and as a result not only had he lost a lot of blood through the stab wound but he was covered in numerous cuts and bruises. He had shown no signs of awakening at all.

Hadril's case was just as worrying she had a cut along her right temple along with a huge blue-ish lump. Clearly she had been hit on the head – and hard. She too had been cut and bruised during her time held captive with the men and she also showed no signs of returning to consciousness. In fact Faervel could feel her _fëa_ begin to fade – he was really worried about Hadril; and more than anything he was worried about his ability to keep both his charges from _Mandos_ Halls. He was tired – he had spent much healing energy with no rest for himself – and they were still so far from the Stronghold or even any of the elven villages. They needed help.

Faervel stood removing his now cold hands from the water – he had been away from Hadril and Arasson for too long now. He re-entered their camp which was under as heavy a guard as they could muster with Feren, Magoldir and Camaendir all on guard duty. Aithel would join them once Faervel was back to look after their stricken comrades. Thoron himself kept a keen eye on their prisoners.

Faervel glanced over at the men, there were four of them in all…now. There had been six of them to begin with but two had given such a great amount of trouble that with only a small amount of regret Faervel had put a swift end to them slitting their throats and silencing them forever. The rest of the men had been much more co-operative after that – including the one who claimed to know where to find Legolas. Faervel sat down as he relieved Aithel mulling over what the man had told them earlier. He wondered how true the man's story was.

The man had claimed that they had been hired by the Woodsmen from the Greater Village, the larger Woodsmen settlement, to capture elves for them and that they were to take all their elven captives back to the village. Yet that made no sense to him – the Woodsmen were a peaceable race of Men – long had they lived in Thranduil's kingdom under his protection – why would they now invoke his wrath by capturing his son and attacking his people? No the man had to be lying. Faervel decided that he would try to get the man to talk to him again and see if he could discern the truth of the matter. He was the most fluent of them all in Westron and he would be the one with the greatest chance of telling if the man really was speaking the truth about Legolas.

He beckoned to Thoron, "Bring that _adan_ to me – I wish to see if I can get him to speak the absolute truth this time."

**~o~**

Meanwhile the troop due to replace Legolas' had finally arrived at the Southern Patrol base camp that morning. They had scouted out the area shortly after arriving finding it strange that Legolas' troop was nowhere in sight. They had no further time to dwell on that fact however as they discovered a small battalion of orcs hiding out amongst the dark decayed foliage and had thrown themselves straight into the fray. The Southern Patrol was never easy and it certainly didn't give you time to settle in.

**~o~**

Thranduil swept into the assembly hall pleased to see that both his war council and the two troops he had requested were all already gathered and standing to attention. Thranduil waved a hand at them ushering them to be at ease as he made his way to his own seat at the head of the long mahogany table. He looked down it at the faces of his generals, his Crown Commander, his secretary and Regent – somehow Arahaelon had managed to arrive here before Thranduil himself. Satisfied that everyone he needed to be here was here he wasted no further time.

"I thank you all for coming at such short notice and I shall get straight to the first point of business – Prince Legolas' troop came under attack by a group of Men – the warriors Hadril and Arasson as well as the Prince himself have all been taken captive -"

Whatever else Thranduil was planning to say was interrupted as there was a collective sharp intake of breath before frantic whisperings and murmurings broke out among the councilors and war veterans. They loved their Prince and the worry in their tones and on their faces was palpable. That was all well and good but they wasted time and Thranduil grabbed the heavy crystal goblet at his side and brought it down hard upon the table causing all noise to cease immediately and all eyes to be turned back upon him.

"Yes – as I was saying they were taken captive two nearly three days ago now and time is of the essence."

Thranduil turned to face both troops that stood ready for his command one he recognized as one of the Woodland realm's elite troops and the other one of the regular battalion troops. Thranduil cared not which regiment they belonged to – what he wanted were troops with exceptionally good trackers and if these were the two that Aglardaer picked then he would trust his friend's decision.

Thranduil inclined his head to them ever so slightly and they responded with a salute.

"You will both go to a clearing not overly far from Rhosgobel – it is popular with troops leaving the Southern Patrol?"

Thranduil raised an eyebrow and was relieved as all the warriors nodded that yes, they knew the place of which he spoke.

"Good – you will start your hunt there, find what tracks you may and pursue them. The captives are your priority – bring your fellows home as safely as you can. But," and here a cold hard light shone in Thranduil's eyes, "if you find any of these men try your best to bring them back alive – even if it is just the one. I would have a word with them if at all possible."

A collective shiver ran down the back of everyone in the room – they could imagine what kind of a 'word' their Liege Lord would be having with any of the Men unfortunate enough to be brought back.

Thranduil laid his right hand on his heart and gave a bow to both troops, " _Le athae. Hortho le huil vaer."_

The troops returned the bow before marching out from the assembly hall Aglardaer behind them presumably to give last minute instruction and guidance. Thranduil motioned for some water to be poured for him and he sipped it silently – if he still had any faith in any of the Valar he might have prayed but he had long lost his faith in them all so instead he cleared his mind and brought his focus to the next matter at hand. Yes, the small matter of a revolt by the _yngyl_ that had invaded his land.

Aglardaer reappeared then and Thranduil put his glass down, "I will let Crown Commander Aglardaer enlighten you as to our second matter of business and the real reason the war council has been summoned."

Aglardaer stepped up then and relayed the threat and plot of the spiders in a far more composed way than he had done when he had first told Thranduil the news. Immediately the war council began their discussions – questioning Aglardaer in order to glean as much information from him as possible. At length Thranduil raised a hand effectively silencing them all.

"I wish for us to send several battalions, at least a quarter of the troops to the Mountains to deal with this threat before it arrives upon our doorstep."

One of the council members spoke up, "A quarter of the troops _Aran-nin_? Is that not a little excessive – surely the threat of the _yngyl_ is not that great?"

"Yes my Liege," chimed in another, "perhaps we ought to send scouts up to the Mountains first – to give us a better idea of what we are facing."

"Nay," Thranduil was resolute, "Too long have we left the spawn of _Ungoliant_ to roam freely and unchecked in the Mountains. No, I will not have the Shadow build another stronghold within our lands – we have enough trouble and evil coming out of the dread tower in the South. I will not have the Enemy's helpers build another one, this time even closer to our homes. We will send a quarter of the troops and they will crush every arachnid in their path so that if even one spiderling survives it will leave to tell any others that the elves of the Woodland realm are not easily intimidated by threats and plots. That we are not to be trifled with."

Command so forcefully given the councilors simply nodded their assent and proceeded to move on with the plotting and planning that such a large military exercise required.

**~o~**

Blacwin smiled at the elf in what he hoped was a truthful and honest looking manner. The dark haired being made no obvious sign as to whether or not it believed him but Blacwin really, really needed the elf to trust him – for that would be his only way out of this sticky predicament Aldred had left them in.

If he could get this elf to believe that the other elf they sought was being held in the Woodsmen village then he and the three remaining men with him would be saved. For Aldred had left a good number of men back at the village to guard against any of the Woodmen escaping and fleeing to get help from the elves. The men left back at the village would easily overpower these elves and set them free. Then perhaps they would all get a share of the riches initially promised after all with so many elves in their capture. _That_ would really teach Aldred.

The jarring sound of metal scraping upon metal brought Blacwin's attention back to his present reality – bound by his hands and feet, standing in front of an elf bent on vengeance who just happened to be sharpening its knives at the present moment. The elf seemed to be thinking – perhaps mulling over everything he had said but Blacwin had no intention of standing here all night waiting for an answer. His leg ached and throbbed fiercely from where his stupid horse had fallen onto it and watching the elf sharpen its knives was getting to be quite unnerving.

"Well elf – I've told you the story twice now – are you so lacking in Westron that you need me to spell it out for you again?"

Blacwin shrunk back and even let his gaze fall from the elf's eyes to the ground as the elf pinned him with a sharp look for his flippant remark.

" _Súlon gwanna nîf gín adan_."

Blacwin jerked his head up to look at the elf confusion in his eyes.

The elf merely smiled at him big and wide, "I said you lie human."

Blacwin huffed as he tried to act indignant and not show just how much the elf's words had unsettled him.

"I'm not lying elf. Why would I? You have me captive don't ya?"

The elf tilted its head as though studying him before it smiled again – a small secretive smile and went back to sharpening it's knives before it spoke up again.

"I don't know why you lie _adan_ but I know that you _are_ lying. Perhaps it is because we have not maltreated you as you maltreat your own captives. Perhaps you simply do not fear me."

Here the elf paused in its work bringing one wickedly sharp and gleaming dagger up to eye level to inspect.

"You should fear me," a twirl of both knives, "but that is beside the point. The point is that you are lying – ever have the woods people been our allies, our friends – why would they turn upon us now?"

Blacwin floundered for he knew nothing of the relationship between the woodsmen and the elves save that he thought any man willing to live in such a cursed elf plagued place was a lunatic and as nutty as the elves themselves. He had simply taken a gamble by blaming the kidnappings on the woodsmen. He decided to press on nevertheless – he really needed to get the elf to believe him.

"Men are never truly your friends elf, you should learn that lesson well. The woodsmen have elected a new chief – one who is tired of your oppressive ways – one who means you harm. Whatever should happen to your blonde elf friend if you choose to ignore me telling you these truths will be upon your head. After all I offer you the chance to save him."

"And save him we shall."

With that the elf got up and made his way over to the edge of the camp giving a quick shrill whistle. Several of the other elves appeared and they began to converse in their strange melodic tongue. Blacwin couldn't understand a word of what they were saying but he felt as though he had finally got through to the elf as he watched two of them make their way across to the horses and begin to pack up.

Unable to stop the smile of sheer relief that appeared upon his face Blacwin crowed at the raven haired elf as it walked back towards him, "I see you've seen sense elf – I only hope you will be in time to rescue your friend from the hands of those barbarians."

With no warning at all the elf brought up his hand to land a stinging, painful slap hard across Blacwin's face.

"Remove that stupid grin human, for the only barbarians I see here are you and that miserable bunch of filth behind you. I know you lie to me and I am sending scouts out now to prove it – and when they have proven me right and you wrong you will wish that all I would do is slap you."

With that the elf turned his back to him and stalked over to where he was tending his two stricken comrades. Blacwin watched with unseeing eyes as the two scout elves mounted up and rode out of the camp before he was grabbed by impossibly strong arms and hauled back over to be tied back up to the tree with his fellow mercenaries.

He felt nothing as he was roughly shoved up against the bark and his bindings secured ever tighter. For he knew now that the game was up – any chance he had of escaping his fate – a painful death at the hands of these elves was now gone along with the elven scouts. For he knew what they would find – and it would condemn him and the last remnants of his men to death.

**~o~**

The Captain of the latest Southern Patrol held out her arm allowing the carrier hawk that had so suddenly appeared to land on her bracer. She smilingly stroked the birds head before untying the message strapped upon its leg.

With a gasp she hastily re-read the message before scrambling to write one of her own even as she gave commands to her troop - tired from a day's hard battle with the Darkness.

"We have a hunt upon our hands _maethyr,_ our Prince and some of his troop have gone missing – attacked by Men. We are to help find them – more troops will be heading this way to aid in the hunt but it would be well for us to get a head start. Come, saddle up for we ride soon. _Berio ven Eru_."

It was not long before the carrier hawk took to the night blackened skies with a screech, new message secured to its leg.

And the troop who had been tired and longing for a quiet night's patrol were suddenly energized as they swiftly packed up camp removing all evidence of their having been there – for their Prince was in trouble and their King had a need of them. They would not let either down.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Le athae – Literally: You are/were helpful/kind - Sindarin version of Thank you
> 
> Hortho le huil vaer – May useful winds speed you on
> 
> Yngyl – (Plural of Ungol) Spiders
> 
> Aran-nin - My King
> 
> Súlon gwanna nîf gín adan – A big wind pours from your mouth human
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Berio ven Eru – May Eru protect us


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Legolas continues.

"Come on elf up you get – time for us to be moving along. If we make good time this night we will be clear and free of this accursed forest."

Legolas was hauled up to his feet by a yank on the ropes that securely bound his hands. He stood pleased that the awful pins and needles sensation in his feet had finally abated. For the men had decided that they were safe here on the edge of the Woodland border and they had loosened the bindings on his legs. He was no longer trussed up like a fowl for roasting but his legs were still not completely free. He had been hobbled by the men who were (rightly) untrusting of letting him have his legs completely free.

Legolas held back a sigh as he was secured to the tack on the leader's horse - he was not looking forward to having to trudge alongside the ill-tempered man all night long. The horse gave a soft whiny as Legolas' was tethered to him and butted his head up against the elf's shoulder. Legolas held back the gasp of pain that wanted to escape him and instead rubbed his own head against the horse's feeling ridiculously happy for the affectionate touch.

"Stop trying to bewitch my horse elf," the man's angry voice nearly made Legolas jump, "It is a stupid beast and it will not be able to help you no matter what elvish enchantments you may put on it."

Legolas simply snorted and allowed himself an eye roll. It was all he could do seeing as he was still gagged. Oh yes, his young torturer had ensured that ever since he had relieved Legolas of his tooth that he was kept gaged in the presence of their leader. The young _adan_ had taken it upon himself to be Legolas' care giver (and Legolas used that phrase very loosely) – a role the other three men seem pleased to let him take on as they all seemed to have the most ridiculous suspicions regarding him. Of course this arrangement served the youngest _adan_ well – he was more easily able to keep hidden his ill treatment of Legolas.

The leader of the men jumped up on his horse and Legolas felt pity for the poor animal as it was viciously jabbed in its sides by the man.

"Right men – tonight's the night we'll be free of this forest at last."

"We head to the Old Ford right Captain – to meet Blacwin and the others?"

Legolas watched as the man in charge swung round to pin the other with an exasperated glare.

"Nay Saveric – we leave altogether – things have become dangerous and the plan has changed. We make our way to our destination by ourselves. Blacwin and the others will catch up when they may."

"But, but Captain -"

"But nothing," hissed the man, "Because you and your half breed brother could not control your lust and killed that girl back at that village we will soon have a mob of angry woodsmen baying for our blood! Think you that we can afford to wait for Blacwin and his sluggards? No we must make all haste to leave this area. So tell me now if _you_ wish to stay behind and wait here on a fool's errand – it can be arranged."

"N-No Sir."

"Good."

Legolas watched as the other man hung his head afraid to even look in his Captains direction. It was disturbing to find out why they had left the village in such haste yet it was interesting to him to note how much all the men feared their Captain - even his young tormentor had a healthy respect for his superior. Legolas could understand for the man in charge seemed to have a constant homicidal and manic gleam in his angry brown eyes.

Legolas' train of thought was interrupted by a sharp pull on his hands that sent pain racing up his arm and flaring in his injured shoulder. With a start and some alarm he realized the men were on the move. On the move away from the forest – away from his salvation. Legolas had no choice but to move his legs as best he could having been hobbled, and keep up with the horse he was secured to lest he fall flat on his face and be dragged through the leaves and mulch.

His mind raced as he began to look around him covertly hoping to see something, anything that might aid in his escape, he was loathe to let these men get far from the Wood with him in tow. His chances of escape looked slim however, the men had frisked him of anything they deemed dangerous upon deciding that they would hobble him and make him walk for this part of the journey. His long handled knives now rested at the waist of the men's Captain and his quiver and bow sat proudly on the back of his young tormentor. His hidden daggers in his boots had also been removed.

That had not been all they took either, the tall lanky brothers had plundered his sparse amount of jewelry with one taking his mithril earrings and the other his ring – a thin band of burnished gold with his seal on it. Legolas cared not really for he had many earrings back home and another ring with his seal could easily be forged – no the piece of jewelry he was most distressed over was a necklace that now gleamed in the moonlight at the neck of the men's Captain. The brothers had wanted it for themselves but it had been promptly snatched by their leader who had declared neither of the two fit for such jewelry. In truth even the necklace itself did not really concern Legolas but rather the ring that hung upon it – his _Naneth's_ betrothal ring. It was one of the very few things he had from her and his strongest memories of her were tied to the ring that Legolas had taken to wearing as a protection charm. He wanted that back – they could keep the rest but he needed that ring back – any escape plan would include him taking the time to take back his _Naneth's_ ring. If he had to pry it from the cold, dead hands of the man then all the better.

Having seen nothing that could yet aid in his escape Legolas decided to bide his time and he looked ahead to see where he was being lead. To his great dismay it seemed that they were headed straight for the Old Forest Road. Surely the men were not so stupid as to attempt to traverse it at night? For though it was clear by day Legolas knew that orcs and goblins had a tendency to take to it by night using it to cross through the Wood, across the countryside and over the Great River. The elves did their best to keep it clear but in all honesty it was not a priority for the patrols given that no elves lived near it any longer. In truth they had never really taken to the Old Forest Road for it had been rumored to have been built by the _Naugrim_ and the elves preferred to use their own safer Elf Path further up North.

Legolas stopped and jerked hard on the bonds that held his hands fast – he was not willing to be taken onto the Old Forest Road whilst tied up. He jerked his hands again and tried his best to speak around his gag his muffled mumblings sounding loud in the quiet night.

A forceful smack to the back of his head nearly sent Legolas to his knees before his bonds were yanked upwards and he was saved from falling.

"Don't start a fuss now elf. I'm giving you freedom to move about and stretch your legs so that you're not a cripple when I come to sell ya but don't get ideas. I don't want you making no noise or you'll soon be drugged up and trussed up again – you hear me?" the man hissed above Legolas holding tight to the rope that secured the elf to his horse.

Legolas was undeterred though and tried his best to convey that he thought the men's plan to get onto the Old Forest Road at night was folly and he gesticulated wildly and as best he could with the limited movement he had.

"Stop your struggling elf – do you think we're about to go in whatever direction you're pointing us to? So that some of your pointy eared friends can capture us and free you? No chance elf now keep walking."

Legolas was once again forced to move as the men continued along their route – a route Legolas was sure would lead to disaster for them all.

**~o~**

Feren glanced over at Magoldir to see firm determination set upon his friends face. They were in a tree that was far enough away from the village that mortal eyes could not see them yet they could see every detail of the village perfectly. It seemed quiet – unnaturally so – there was little movement and there seemed to be an air of anger as well as despair emanating from the place. In all truth Feren wasn't particularly keen to get any closer. He knew the woodsmen were meant to be friends of the elves but clearly something was off here – they had all doubted the _adan's_ words when he said that the woodsmen had betrayed the elves but now he was not so sure.

With a sigh he decided they would find out nothing more by simply staying put on their perch.

"Let us go in and see what we can find out. I'm not sure if I believe that _adan's_ words but we must ensure that Legolas is not here."

Magoldir gave a firm nod of his copper haired head, "Yes do you want to take the East side of the village and I shall take the West? We will meet back here once we've scouted it out?"

"That's fine by me – hoot twice like a nightingale if you come upon Legolas and once like a barn owl if you are in trouble and I'll do the same."

Of course it went without saying that they were to keep out of sight of any _edain_ – they were not there to pick a fight after all but to simply scout out the village and see if they could find any signs of Legolas.

Magoldir nodded and with that both elves jumped down to the soft grass below making nary a sound and began their way towards the village. It was surrounded by a fairly high wall, around eight feet high or so made from long thin planks of dead wood; for of course the woodsmen knew that felling live trees would distress the elves and incur the wrath of the Elven King. Right now however Feren wished that the wall was made of living wood that could tell him all the happenings in the village. He had tried asking the tree they had just been in of course but so far South the trees were deaf to the call of the elves, either due to the poisoned darkness flowing within them putting them into a deep sleep or through simply maliciously ignoring them. Whatever the case he had gotten no answers and now they had to go in search of them themselves.

The village wall was no obstacle to either and they swiftly climbed over having checked that there was nothing ill awaiting them on the other side. With another curt nod to each other they split up determined to find some answers.

**~o~**

Sanya looked at the two burning piers some way off from where she was standing and shook her head in disbelief. As a seasoned Captain of the guard she knew that the Southern Patrol was one of the most difficult patrols in the realm, however she had not been prepared for the horrors that this particular patrol kept throwing their way. It had been a nightmare from the time they had left the palace having first been delayed by a huge cluster of spiders and then by a freak storm. All in all they had been two weeks late. She had expected to meet a wary and exasperated Prince Legolas and his troop and yet they had been nowhere to be seen.

She had had no time to dwell on that however as almost immediately they were forced into battle with orcs that had been lying in wait very near their main camp. Right on the heels of that skirmish had come a message from the King himself solving the mystery of Legolas and his troop's nonappearance – they had been attacked and the Prince and two of his warriors captured. And so she had hastily written back saying that her troop would begin the search until the other troops joining the search arrived.

Luckily enough the letter from the King mentioned where the attack had taken place and Sanya and her troop had made all haste to get there.

And here they were now watching the bodies of evil men, filthy _yngyl_ and faithful Elvish steeds burn. Sanya's heart clenched as she thought about the scene of devastation they had come upon – blood splattered trees, blood slicked ground and battered, crumpled bodies of men, spiders and horses scattered around the clearing. Still at least there had been no elves amongst the dead the _Valar_ be praised. She had set her best trackers to looking over the scene and gleaning every possible clue they could from it. That done they proceeded to burn the bodies – even evil men should be disposed of respectfully and not left for the _yrch_ she supposed. Now it was time to decide which way to go for there were two sets of very conflicting tracks to follow. The first set lead away to the edge of the forest and they were numerous and included the tracks of elven horses. The second set of tracks were less but spoke of speed and haste to get away.

"We need now to decide which way to go – we have two tracks but we will _not_ be splitting up so we must decide which trail looks the most promising for now and leave the other one for the other troops to follow."

"Then we must surely follow the first set of tracks for there are prints of elvish horses there, the other track looks interesting but if we may not split up then I say we must follow in the direction where we know elves have definitely gone in Captain."

Sanya nodded her head gravely, "Let us make haste then and be sure not to disturb the tracks as much as is possible – hopefully they will still be intact and visible when the other search parties arrive."

And with that they mounted and made off in the opposite direction Legolas had been taken by his captors.

**~o~**

Feren crouched down in the shadows near the last house he had had a quick scout around – as with all the others before it contained no sign of Legolas being held captive but there were plenty of others who were.

It was clear to Feren now why the man had been so adamant that they come to the village to seek Legolas. For it was overrun by more of the same mercenaries and somehow they had managed to attack and overpower the woodsmen for they were all gathered together in the simple homes chained and under heavy guard. Indeed the only people who currently roamed freely were the mercenaries; all the native people were being kept hidden away and chained inside the huts, misery and anger clear on the faces of those he could see. His heart bled for them and he longed to be able to do something to aid them yet he was a sole elf with only one other companion here – they were heavily outnumbered by the evil men. Yes indeed he could see why the man so very much wanted them to come here for they would be overrun, killed or taken captive and the men they currently held as captive would be freed – it was a trap and now Feren had the sinking suspicion in his gut that Legolas was nowhere near here at all and it had all been a bluff by the man in order to try and save himself and his cronies.

Feren looked up again cursing the single _adan_ who sat facing his direction. The man could not see him now but if he moved he was sure to be spotted. He was getting pretty tired of his crouched position as well – he'd been stuck here for ten minutes hoping and willing the man to turn around. Yet still he sat doggedly looking into the darkness in Feren's direction, sipping from a flagon of ale in his hands.

Feren was looking back the way he came wondering if he would be spotted were he to move back that way now when all of a sudden there was the sound of smashing glass and the _adan_ shot up off his seat and rushed off with a small group of other _edain_ in the direction of the noise. Glad for the distraction Feren jumped up and made his way over to the house the man had been sitting alongside – it was the last one to be checked and Feren had decided that if Legolas was anywhere to be found in this village he would be within this building – the chieftain's lodgings by the look of things – and it seemed to be the evil men's headquarters.

He quickly scaled the fence behind the property having checked there was nothing awaiting him on the other side; which is why he jumped about a mile and very nearly screamed when a strong hand clasped his shoulder.

"Ai Magoldir you very nearly sent me to _Mandos_ – what are you doing here?"

Magoldir merely smirked before replying, "I'm saving you of course – I saw how you were stuck with that _adan_ staring into your very hiding place so I caused a distraction to allow you to get free and to give us some time to check out this last building. No doubt you have discovered this town is under some sort of siege?"

"Yes – the woodsmen have been overrun by these mercenaries which is why the ones we have captive were so keen to get us to come here."

"Mmm," Magoldir hummed in response, "twas a trap and now I wonder if Legolas is here at all. Should we just go back now whilst it is relatively easy?"

"Nay that man knows something about Legolas. He knows something but does not speak the truth about it. Nevertheless we are here now and if there is anywhere Legolas would be kept in this village then it will be here – it seems to be their main base. Come now let's not put your great distraction to waste."

With that Feren eased open the back door and he and Magoldir slipped inside praying to all the _Valar_ for help for their cause.

**~o~**

Around fifteen minutes later both elves slipped back over the village wall. They were disappointed not to have found their beloved Captain and Prince. There had been no one at all being held captive in the large hut and no sign of Legolas having ever been there. They had had a close escape and were happy now to be back amongst the dark embrace of the forest which was in fact getting lighter with their every step for dawn would soon be upon them – they had spent far more time in the village that anticipated.

"Let us hurry back to the others – we do not wish to worry them and Aithel said she would send Thoron and Camaendir looking if we did not return by dawn."

Magoldir gave small sad smile whilst simultaneously picking up his pace, "Well we can't have that - Thoron would never let us hear the end of it."

"Indeed."

They climbed up into the trees as they continued back to their make shift camp in silence that was broken at length by Magoldir's sudden weary sigh.

"Where do you think Legolas is? Do you think he is still alive? I fear with every false turn we make I lose hope. I also worry for Hadril and Arasson – they do not fear well either."

Magoldir stopped leaning up against the trunk of the tree they were in, closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around himself tightly, "And I have a particularly terrible feeling about Legolas."

Feren stopped then too holding his friend gently by his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace.

"What do you feel?" asked Feren softly, fearing to hear the answer, for Magoldir's feelings were hardly ever wrong – they seemed to be a sort of premonition and everyone in their troop had learned to take heed and listen when Magoldir had a 'feeling'.

Magoldir looked at Feren with sadness in his eyes before answering, "I feel pain. I feel the absolute darkness of terror and I feel horrible, shocking pain."

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adan – Man
> 
> Naneth - Mother
> 
> Naugrim –Literally: Stunted People – Dwarves
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Yngyl – (Plural of Ungol) Spiders
> 
> Yrch – (Plural of Orch) – Sindarin for Orcs


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I missed posting at the weekend and I will be away this coming weekend – here's another chapter – full of angsty elves :)

hranduil cast mildly irritated but mostly anxious eyes over the courtyard which was currently in far too much disarray for his liking. Horses snorted and stamped impatient to be off and there were packs and water skins littering nearly every free corner of the courtyard. Warriors hurried to and fro busy checking over their armour and weapons as well as applying the traditional war paint to their horses and to themselves. Thranduil turned his back on the chaos fingers gently massaging his temples. He really hoped that Aglardaer would have the area under some form of control by the time he went down into the courtyard to give his blessing over the troops. He really could not stand disorder – it tended to make him irritable – and truly there was no need to exacerbate his foul mood any further.

For he had had no sleep at all as the war council had run long into the night. Even once that was over and Thranduil was free to retire to his chambers he found that sleep eluded him, the true force of his worry for Legolas hitting him then. He had had nothing to distract him and had therefore spent the entire night battling to stay positive and not give in to the despair lurking in the corners of his mind. Legolas – his precious Lasseg - would be ok. He had to be, he must - for the alternatives were too awful to think of and made Thranduil's heart clench and feel faint all at once.

Thranduil ran a frustrated hand through his unbound hair as he stalked back inside and went back to pacing up and down his dining room. He was so busy with his pacing and worrying that he did not hear the gentle tread of elven feet entering the room.

"You shall wear a rut into that rug Thranduil – and a fine rug it is too. Did you not buy it just this turn of the season?

Thranduil spun round with a start before fixing Arahaelon with a glare, "Why are you sneaking around here? Must you always walk around as silently as a wraith?"

Arahaelon merely smirked at him and took no notice of Thranduil's waspish tone, for he knew how badly Legolas' disappearance was worrying his King.

"Tis not my fault you are so preoccupied that a herd of Mûmakil could have waltzed in here unnoticed. Come, stop this fruitless pacing. Have you eaten as yet?" Arahaelon cast a doubtful look over to the spread on the table which was surely cold by now.

"Nay," came the short answer as Thranduil resumed his tense pacing.

"Why ever not? You will be needed to give your blessing shortly. Surely you do not want to swoon in front of your troops."

The look Thranduil shot at Arahaelon was poisonous, "Do not be absurd. I have not eaten because I am simply not hungry."

Arahaelon snorted in a way that was very unbecoming an elf Lord in his position, "I shall go fetch Galion – see if he may bribe you into eating with a few of your favourites like an elfling."

As if summoned by the mere mention of his name Galion appeared in the room after two sharp raps on the door, "Aran-nin if it pleases you I have brought something different for your breakfast?"

Thranduil rolled his eyes, "Please Galion do not stand on attention merely for him," Thranduil waved his arm vaguely in Arahaelon's general direction.

Galion gave a smile at the pair's antics before he tried again, "Well then there is just a light fruit platter here and some sparkling strawberry wine I managed to swindle out of the cooks. At least eat some of it Thranduil for you will need your strength this day."

"He will eat all of it, won't you Thranduil? Lest you wish to disgrace yourself in front of the maethyr."

Knowing he was fighting a losing battle against the both of them Thranduil flung himself into his chair at the head of the table and motioned for Galion to bring the food before him whilst resolutely ignoring Arahaelon's smug smile.

He began to eat, gingerly taking a tiny bite of apple before he realized that he was indeed famished. He popped the rest of the fruit slice into his mouth before starting on the blueberries.

At length Thranduil spoke up, "Do not just sit there and watch me eat like a proud Adar Arahaelon. Go and see to it that Aglardaer gets that din in the courtyard under control so I may go down and set them off. I want the maethyr to march before the sun has fully risen."

"Sîdh Thranduil – you know Aglardaer will have all under his control by the time you go down to them. You need not work yourself up like this."

Still Arahaelon drained his own goblet before standing and bowing to Thranduil. Arahaelon may tease and joke but he was very respectful of his King despite him being a full millennia older than Thranduil. His merest wish was Arahaelon's command and he left to do as his King had bid him satisfied that he had achieved his aim and Thranduil was now eating something. For Galion had come to him worried at the King's lack of sleep and refusal to eat. Arahaelon had told him to fetch a small platter of fresh fruit and to leave the rest to him. He could do nothing about the lack of sleep but at least Thranduil would have some sustenance to keep him going this morn.

There was after all the small matter of the trade delegation from Esgaroth that needed to be dealt with once the troops had left. They were annoyed and as he had predicted offended to have been placed under such very obvious guard and Thranduil would need to be at his charming best to sway them back onside and get a favourable deal for the Wood. Smoothing his long silver hair he strode down the corridors eager to get the day underway.

**~o~**

Legolas wriggled around in a futile attempt to get somewhat comfortable. Despite his great anxiety over it he and his captors had met nothing upon the section of the Old Forest road they had travelled over the previous night. Now they were taking shelter just off the road amongst a small thicket; for the Captain of the men (Aldred as Legolas had learned he was called) had decided that they would travel only by night in an attempt to stay out of sight of unfriendly eyes.

Such foolishness, thought Legolas angrily, the worse things in and around the Wood only came out at night. He gave another experimental wiggle trying his best to find a position that would not put undue pressure upon his injured shoulder. His feet had been properly shackled once more and the bindings that held his arms secure has been attached to a piece of rope that gave him enough slack to move somewhat freely. The rope had been tied to a young tree – something that gave Legolas a small amount of comfort as he leaned against it slightly having finally found a position that was bearable.

All comfort he felt no matter how slight disappeared in an instant however when the young adan seemingly in charge of guarding him stepped into Legolas' field of vision. He held back a sigh – so far throughout their journey the man had found odd yet subtlety clever ways to hurt him and cause him pain. The man's need to cause him pain baffled Legolas – he did not understand the man's great hatred towards his race. He refused to look up at the adan as he approached however, choosing to ignore his presence for as long as he was able to and instead returned his focus to trying to rouse the young tree at his back from its deep slumber. Perhaps he could get the trees to relay a message back to the palace for him?

Just as Legolas decided to really try and force the young tree to awaken his focus was shattered as the man stepped onto a twig – the snap it gave sounded unnaturally loud in the silent thicket. His ever present gag was then hurriedly snatched out of his mouth and Legolas took the opportunity to move his nearly numb tongue, running it lightly over his teeth, stopping in the still slightly sore gap where he no longer had a tooth as he continued to try and ignore the man's presence.

"What are you doing elf? You look like you are attempting something," the man kneeled just in front of Legolas and tilted his head giving him an enquiring look.

Legolas glared up at him, "Are you a simpleton môr-adan? I am sitting here completely tied up and yet you ask me what I am doing? As if I have the freedom to do anything." Legolas' tone was scathing.

The man frowned angry with the way Legolas was speaking to him, "You really think I am like those other men don't you? You truly think I know nothing of elves and your devious ways?"

The man jumped up from his kneeling position suddenly causing Legolas to flinch – something which angered the elven Prince greatly but he had no time to berate himself as he was forced out of his semi-comfortable position and roughly pressed up fully against the tree. The adan manhandled him into position before tying a thick bit of rope around Legolas' middle securing him firmly to the tree.

Legolas gave a huff assuming nonchalance towards the man's odd behavior – inwardly he was starting to get that hideous nervous feeling in his belly again – but he was determined to show nothing of his suffering to these men, this one in particular.

When the man came back around to face him Legolas arched a perfect golden eyebrow at him, "Now I think it is I who should ask you what you are doing adan. I was already secured – why this?"

"Because as I told you before I am an elf friend, and that means I know a lot about you elves and your ways. For example I know that you wood elves have a special affinity with all green things – trees in particular. I saw that look of concentration on your face elf, you were trying to speak to this tree were you not?"

Legolas blinked and his mask of feigned indifference very nearly slipped (had he truly become so transparent?) before he managed to collect his shocked thoughts together and reply glibly, "I do not know of what you speak adan – the trees here are dead."

The man hummed softly, "We'll see elf, for it looked to me as though you were perhaps trying something naughty," here the man paused to waggle his finger at Legolas. "I really hope you weren't trying to get the trees to help you elfie for that would be a mistake."

"The trees here are dead – I've already told you this adan."

"Well then you won't mind at all what I'm about to do," the man leaned forward and roughly yanked the gag back into place being quick and careful with his fingers.

Legolas' heart raced as he kept his eyes on the man's every movement watching as he bent to retrieve some things from a small bag near a gap in the thick brambles that served as an entrance to the small thorny prison that cut Legolas off from the rest of the men's hidden camp.

The man approached with a selection of three differently sized daggers in his hands along with two of Legolas' very own arrows.

Legolas narrowed his eyes at the man angry at the sight of his possessions in the hands of one so evil even as he wondered what new tortures the man had come up with for him. He had gagged him again which most likely meant he expected Legolas to cry out. Well, Legolas would make sure he did no such thing – he would not give the man the pleasure.

The man took a fighting stance in front of Legolas twirling one of the daggers in his hand before flinging it towards Legolas. The Prince flinched, eyes closed and ducked as far down as he was able, feeling mightily relieved when he heard the dull thud of the dagger embedding itself into wood. That was until he heard a shocked scream reverberate within him almost piercing his very fëa with its pain.

Legolas' eyes flew open as he frantically looked around trying to see what could have made such an awful heart rending sound. Yet there was no one else to be seen save the smirking young man in front him. He could now hear a piteous whimpering and realized with a start that it was the coming from the young tree he was currently trussed up to. Legolas eyes snapped up to glare at the adan who simply smiled big at him.

"Something wrong elf? You look shaken. I wasn't aiming for you elfie don't worry – Aldred would have my hide." With that he reached over Legolas and grabbed the dagger before wiggling it back and forth in the small hole it had made within the tender young bark.

A pained shriek sounded loud in Legolas' sensitive ears again and he tossed his head and closed his eyes willing the awful sound to leave him.

The man pulled his dagger free with a little grunt causing a pained gasp from the tree at his back.

Legolas maneuvered so that his fingertips just brushed the trunk of the young tree, "I am sorry mellon-nin I wanted to awaken you but not like this. Please know tis not me who gives you such pain."

The tree continued its whimpering seeming not to have heard Legolas' words at all so great was its pain.

Legolas looked up at the man angry yet pleading as he tried to speak around his gag before the man finally eased it back.

"Leave the tree alone – it is young and innocent. Torture me if you must but leave the tree in peace it has done nothing to deserve your malevolence."

"I thought you said the trees were dead elfie?" The man shook his head in mock disappointment, "You lied elfie – you lied about the trees being dead here and you lied about trying to get their help. I know all about you wood elves - I knew the moment you got near a tree you would be chattering away at it for help. Well no help will come elf, not from this tree nor any other."

Without another word he brutally forced the gag back into Legolas mouth and plunged two daggers deep into the tree at either side of Legolas' head.

"This tree will pay for your lies elf. Trying to speak to it was a mistake. So let this be a lesson."

He pulled out the knives slick with sap before plunging them into the same damaged spots again tearing more awful screams of pain from the tree. Legolas writhed, tried to kick out – anything – to get the man to back away from the tree and stop with this new form of hideous cruelty.

It was in vain though and he could do nothing to stop the man from stabbing the poor young tree again and again with his wickedly sharp knives splattering Legolas with sweet, sticky sap as he did so. He also found himself able to do very little to comfort the tree whose agonized wails now pierced Legolas as sharply as the man's daggers would have.

**~o~**

It was a full good hour later when the man finally pulled back his daggers for the last time as he stood back and surveyed his work with a proud look upon his face. The young tree at Legolas' back was scarred – deep marks and cuts had pierced its still tender bark and there were deep holes and gouges all along it. Gouges out of which seeped the tree's sticky life force. The man had cut and carved chunks out of the bark before plucking of the new spring buds and snapping off all the branches he could reach.

All the while he tree had cried out screamed and pleaded, chanting a pained litany for help that only Legolas could hear – and he could do nothing. Nothing as he was splattered with sap, nothing as he listed to the tortured screams and pleas, he could do nothing to even offer comfort.

He had tried – brushing his fingertips against the hurting bark he had tried to offer comfort and get the tree to try and focus on his gentle words rather that its torment. He had even tried a little greenling spell of healing he had learned from Radagast yéni ago yet the hurts the man were inflicting we too great and the tree had continued to howl its pain.

The man removed the big thick piece of rope that had bound Legolas tightly to the tree leaving him as he had originally been tied up.

"I hope you learn this lesson well elfie – don't be talking to no trees – or they'll pay for it," he smiled at the pained horror that Legolas was sure was clear upon his face, "and I know that their pain hurts you too elf."

With that the man walked off wiping the sap from his weapons as he went.

Legolas closed his eyes and gave another great wriggle of his wrists, this time able to place his palms fully upon the tree before he recoiled with a jolt that sent sharp pain flaring through him as the tree hissed in venomous anger towards him. Legolas was shocked – never had he felt such murderous anger towards himself from a tree not even those ones that grew in the Shadowed South.

Legolas felt pain anew as the tree hurled its agonized anger at him. His heart was already sore from the tree's pain and now with its wrath aimed towards him he very nearly wept. Only the need to keep the men from seeing his pain kept him from doing so.

At length he shuffled forwards easing himself away from the tree that clearly found no comfort in his presence and decided to try and give it at least some small measure of peace. If that meant placing himself as far away from the tree as the slack of the rope allowed then so be it – though Legolas' heart reeled at the thought of green living things rejecting his touch.

He settled himself again in a small patch of dirt feeling unworthy of even sitting upon the grass at the moment. Legolas turned his head back to study the brutalized tree, his sadness swiftly turning into anger. He would memorize these marks for he intended to visit them all upon the adan as soon as he got free. Legolas' gaze hardened as he continued to look upon the tree – he would have his revenge. He knew not yet when but he would have it. He was Prince of the Woodland realm – no one would assault his people nor the trees and get away with it. This adan had done both and no matter how long it took Legolas would make sure that he paid for his crimes.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas
> 
> Mûmakil – Large creature resembling elephant used in battle by the Haradrim
> 
> Aran-nin - My King
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Môr-adan – Dark (Evil) Man
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Mellon-nin - My friend
> 
> Yéni – (Quenya) Elvish measure of time equalling 144 years. Plural of yén.


	17. Chapter 17

"- but as for Legolas he wasn't there – no trace of him at all. So where do we go from here now?"

Where indeed, thought Faervel as he spun upon his heel and stalked back over to resume his watch over Hadril and Arasson. He clenched and unclenched his fists fighting to keep his composure. Magoldir and Feren's report was not what he wanted to hear. Although deep down he had not truly expected anything else – he knew the _adan_ had been lying and he knew it had all been a ploy to try to trap them.

He forced himself to unclench his teeth as he knelt to check his comrades' temperatures. They were still burning up despite all the effort he had put in to keep them cool. With a sigh he grabbed a few damp cloths and went back to the tiresome and so far unrewarding task of sponging down his friends in an effort to help break their fevers. He could give no more healing energy right now – he was still far too drained – this simple method would have to suffice for the moment.

He kept half an ear on what the others were saying; now speaking in fierce whispers as Aithel wanted to get more details of what Feren and Magoldir had seen in the village. Faervel wiped a cool cloth along Hadril's brow being careful of the deep wound upon it as he did so. He felt fury on behalf of the woodsmen – angry they had been so taken advantage of but even so, their suffering at the hands of these men was not enough to stop the distracting and despairing thoughts of Legolas coming into his mind.

_Ai Valar_ where was his friend now? How could they find him? Faervel blew a loose strand of black hair from his face as he glanced up at the men they had captive. He caught the eye of the man who had lied to him for a second before the _adan_ lost his nerve and dropped his gaze and Faervel felt his fury rise a notch. That stupid lying _ion orch_ had lead them on a merry chase when in reality he probably had no actual idea where Legolas had been taken. He was merely trying to save himself. Well, though Faervel savagely, he would pay for his lies and pay for wasting their time - oh yes Faervel would see to it – once he had solved the mystery of Legolas' disappearance he would exact his revenge.

His malevolent thoughts were interrupted as there was suddenly a great crashing and crunching of the brush and shrubbery ahead of them. In a flash Faervel was up in his feet cool cloths tossed aside in favour of his wicked daggers. He threw himself into a protective fighting stance in front of his stricken fellows. They had suffered enough and he would be damned if he allowed anything more to hurt them. Aithel and the others were already at the edge of the small clearing weapons at the ready to face whatever was rushing headlong towards them.

Faervel watched as several elven steeds came crashing through the shrubbery before coming to a halt just within the clearing. Sheathing his daggers, he breathed a huge sigh of relief as he recognized Captain Sanya and the rest of her _dírnaith_ as they dismounted.

Finally - they had met their replacements, finally help had come and with a weary smile he waved over the other troop's healers.

Hadril and Arasson may yet survive this, he mused as he watched the other healers unpack supplies he had long run out of. If only the same could be said of Legolas.

**~o~**

Thranduil glanced over at Bôr his secretary, faithfully scribbling down notes and he breathed a small internal sigh of relief glad that he had made the decision to bring Bôr into the meeting. For his mind wandered and he could not pay attention to whatever the man currently speaking said, his worry for Legolas was consuming him, preventing him from thinking of all else.

He was beyond worried for his son, his little leaf – _Ai Valar_ he was so worried for him. Where was he now? Was he in pain? Was he being treated fairly? Or was he beaten, broken, and bruised? The very thought of Legolas being harmed or lying hurt somewhere made Thranduil both furious and miserable at the same time.

He let his thoughts flicker upon the men who had done this, the men who had dared to lay hands upon his son. He wanted to punish them – oh yes - he wanted to punish them in all sorts of hideous and painful ways but more than anything else he wanted to see his son. It had been a long time since he had waved Legolas off, indeed it had been nearly three months since he had said goodbye to him before he left on this doomed patrol.

Thranduil took a deep breath to calm himself willing his mind to focus, for all this worry, all these what if scenarios would do no good for him nor Legolas. Instead he did his best to focus on the accursed meeting he was currently trapped in. Thranduil nearly sighed aloud. He had not even intended to come back into the meeting – after he had seen off his troops he had been perfectly content to go back to his pacing in peace and leave Arahaelon and the trades councilors to sort this all out. But alas, Arahaelon had all but dragged him in here blathering on about how his presence was needed to help make up for any offense caused to the men. Thranduil for his part could give less of a damn how the men felt – they were here to talk about trade not their feelings.

He glanced round at the heavy elven guard presence still within the room – the _edain_ would just have to deal with it; Men were as untrustworthy as ever and Thranduil was not about to be caught off guard – certainly not in his own palace.

"… good King Thranduil?"

Thranduil snapped his eyes to face of the _adan_ that had spoken his name completely unaware of what he had just been asked. So much for not being caught off guard.

"I apologise you will need to repeat your question – I did not hear it," Thranduil saw no gain to be had by lying.

Before the man had a chance to repeat himself another _adan_ piped up rather loudly.

"Do we bore you Lord Thranduil? Or perhaps those hundreds of years are catching up to your hearing?"

It was the same fat, pompous man from the previous day trying and failing to get a laugh out of the room.

Thranduil stiffened and straightened himself in his seat – he was in no mood for this _adan's_ poor taste in jokes nor his disrespect.

"Firstly _adan_ – whilst in my realm and under my hospitality you will address me as _King_ Thranduil. Secondly I am millennia old not mere hundreds of years – before your town was even an idea I ruled here so bear in mind that the Woodland realm will carry on just fine with or without you and your trade."

Thranduil was aware that he was snarling at the now frightened looking _adan_ but he was beyond the point of caring and he simply did not feel like reigning in his famed temper.

"And lastly though you do indeed bore me there is naught wrong with my hearing – I have much on my mind for my Kingdom is currently at war hence the extra presence of the guards you have taken so much offense to. Now you _will_ excuse me as I have other things I must see too. My councilors will deal with you for the remainder of your time here."

Thranduil drew back his chair and swept out of the room in an angry flurry leaving the others within no time to bow or stand themselves.

**~o~**

He had to get out and do something to calm his spirit, sitting still in a meeting was the worst possible thing for him right now. He had always been an _ellon_ of action yet Kingship had robbed him of that – now he was forced to sit still and let others search for _his_ son, sit still and send others out to fight on his behalf. Thranduil stormed into his chambers and flung his crown off his head and across the room – he had never wanted it. Never. Yet it had been forced upon him and now he was stuck here – expected to continue his calm unaffected rule even in the midst of his own personal hell.

His son, his _only son_ damn it, had been taken and he was expected to sit and make pleasantries with the very race that was responsible for his disappearance. Thranduil kicked out hard at a side table near him sending everything upon it flying before he struck out against his dresser smashing glass and scattering ornaments and papers. Damn the race of Men, he raged as he sank down to his knees despair rapidly taking over. Was he destined to lose everyone on Arda he cared for?

"Is it not enough I have lost _Adar-nin a Hervess-nin_?" Thranduil roared caring not one whit if any of his personal guard heard him before his anger gave way to simple raw pain.

"Must I lose _Lasseg_ too?"

**~o~**

Faervel sat back on his haunches and wiped a bloodied hand against his tunic feeling pleased as he leaned back to study his patients. Both Arasson and Hadril looked ever so slightly better now after having the attentions of several healers upon them as well as the much needed pain relief and medicines that they had run out of.

He knew they were now in good hands and better protected with the arrival of this _dírnaith_ and that helped him to feel a little less bad for what he was now planning to do. And do it he must no matter the consequences afterwards – for Legolas was his friend but more than that he was his Prince. A Prince he had vowed to protect with his own life if necessary – and so far Faervel had to admit he hadn't exactly done a sterling job of that on this patrol.

Plans were being made for getting Hadril and Arasson back to the palace as quickly as possible now that they had learned from Sanya and her company that the King had sent out two patrols in search for the Prince. It had been deemed the best course of action was for them take their injured fellows back home for the proper medical aid they needed before returning if necessary to join in the hunt for Legolas. They would also report back to the King the plight of the woodsmen. It was all sound reasoning of course but Faervel could not and would not go through with that plan – he had heard Magoldir speak of his 'feelings' in regards to Legolas' current situation and he could not overlook them. Magoldir and his 'feelings' were not lightly ignored.

Also Faervel could not bear the thought of returning to face King Thranduil with the news that Legolas was still missing. How could he in all good consciousness go home safe to the palace whilst his charge was still lost out there somewhere? What kind of a bodyguard would that make him? Nay – he knew that even though some of his fellow _maethyr_ may be worried and even a little upset at first they would come to understand in the end.

Still he did not shirk his duties in the meanwhile and after quickly washing his hands he joined in with preparations for the safe and comfortable transport of Hadril and Arasson.

Finally with his bow upon his back and his knives at his side he leapt up a tree to keep watch until they were ready to go. He had told Aithel to give a quick whistle once they were ready to move off and that he would come down. He gazed down upon them watching as they hustled to and fro and he felt a great wash of affection for the _eledhrim_ he called his fellow warriors. He had been with them for centuries and they were all as good as family to him. His gaze shifted over to the men who were now being herded over towards the horses they were to be shackled to during the trip back to the palace.

Rage flared up hotly within him again as he looked upon the men but he fought to dampen it – these men were on their way to face King Thranduil and attempt to explain their crimes against his people and his son. Faervel shook his head for he almost felt sorry for them. Nothing he could do to them could match what Thranduil in a rage could.

Silently he turned his back on the scene praying for his _dírnaith's_ forgiveness as he tiptoed across the branches deeper into the forest and away from the clearing. He would not be here when Aithel whistled. It was time for him to do as he had promised Thranduil long _yeni_ ago. He would find his Prince and save him from the clutches of these evil men. No matter the cost to him.

**~o~**

"What's wrong with my elf?"

The angry voice jolted Legolas out of the pained, dazed reverie he had slid into. He still sat in the same spot of dusty earth scarcely touching the grass around him. He had been so caught up in the anguished whimpering and angry accusations of the tree that he hadn't heard the men's non to gentle approach.

"What do you mean Captain – there's naught wrong with him."

"He looks pale… I thought you were meant to be looking after him."

Legolas glanced up as his young tormentor spoke in a flustered defense of himself, "I have been looking after him but elves are difficult creatures."

"I don't want none of your excuses boy you're supposed to be the elf expert here. Fetch him something to eat and drink and see that he does so before we move off. I haven't gone through all this trouble just to have him die on us due to your lack of care. I've said it before and I'll say it again boy. I'll kill you before I lose out on this elf. Now get!"

Legolas watched as the angry Captain stomped away followed more slowly and calmly by the younger man and a small unwelcome shiver ran down his spine. For all that the younger man had strode calmly away Legolas could feel the waves of anger that rolled off him and he was certain that somehow he would pay for the dressing down the _adan_ had just received from his Captain.

**~o~**

Elias made sure to keep his steps calm and measured as he followed behind Aldred. He too wanted to stamp and crash through the brush like his Captain but he didn't dare do anything to rouse Aldred's anger against him any further. Simply thinking of the dressing down he had received from Aldred in front of the elf just then made him burn with fury. Oh he'd feed the elf all right, he'd feed him up good and proper.

Elias continued his calmly angry walk across their makeshift camp and snatched up a small wrapped packet and a water skin before he turned to make his way back towards the elf aware of the weight of Aldred's irate gaze upon him. Still he kept his face blank not letting even a tiny bit of the rage he felt slip through his mask until he had made his way through the brambles to stand in front of the trussed up elf.

Elias' rage shot up another level at the way the haughty creature on the ground before him did not so much as glance in his direction.

"Your food's here elf," Elias ground out from between his clenched teeth.

Still the blonde being on the ground did not move and finally letting his anger get the better of him he flung the packet of cram at the elf hitting him squarely in the chest. That got his attention and angry blue eyes pinned him with a glare. Elias couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his back at having the full weight of the heavy, angry elven glower on him. This elf if ever he got free would be a formidable foe and even though he had skill Elias did not think for a moment that he would be able to put up much of a fight against him. That realisation only served to anger the young man further as he quickly removed the elf's gag being careful of his fingers all the while.

"Aldred wants you to eat," he paused to gather up the food he had tossed at the elf, "I'll feed you."

The elf's eyes widened if only minutely and for a few short seconds before he wrinkled his nose and snootily refused, "I am not hungry and I do not eat _human_ food. You needn't trouble yourself."

"I will indeed trouble myself elfie," Elias replied with malicious glee, "after all I do not wish to anger the Captain. He thinks you look weak and pale. I'm here to fix that."

"I am not weak," the elf near growled at him in his accented Westron, "and I am only pale as you have held me captive in the darkness for so long."

"I know that elf, but Aldred does not – he wants you to eat and eat you shall, and you needn't worry about the food – it's only waybread – tis the mannish version of lembas."

The elf scoffed at that and Elias shrugged casually, he could care less about the elf's preferences and tastes in food. He was here to keep Aldred happy and off his back. He was also going to have some fun with it. He broke off the piece of cram and looked at it calculatingly – how could he force the elf to eat without being bitten again. Idea coming to him he quickly jumped up and went round the back of Legolas grabbing the elf in a tight hold across his chest and the ribs that he knew were very bruised. The elf opened his mouth presumably to protest being manhandled and Elias promptly shoved the piece of waybread in using the palm his now free hand to clamp the elf's mouth shut and his thumb and forefinger to pinch the elf's nostrils together. He held on tight then as the being struggled furiously trying to shake him off. Elias was determined though and he just about managed to hold on until the elf began to make choking noises before he felt him swallow.

Feeling smug that he had gotten one over on the elf Elias crowed, "See elf that wasn't so bad was it? No need to be so stubbo- argh!"

He screamed pulling away his now bleeding arm and hastily leaping away from the elf, "You…you… elven bastard," Elias sputtered as he looked between his wounded arm and the smirking elf with rage in his eyes.

"You are too careless _adan_ ," the elf was actually grinning at him now and a macabre grin it was too. Elias' own blood stained the elf's lips and the gap where his tooth had been but two nights ago stood out clearly.

Elias snapped and raised his hand ready to punch another tooth out the elf's stupid grinning mouth when his arm was caught and held fast as Aldred bellowed in his ear, "What in the name of all the gods is going on here?"

Elias froze heart sinking as he realised what he had been about to do to the elf – Aldred's elf.

"Tis not what it looks like Aldred – I promise I did not hit him."

Elias flinched as Aldred roughly dragged him forward forcing him to kneel as Aldred himself knelt in front of the elf. With no care at all Aldred grabbed the elf's chin between his meaty thumb and forefinger.

"Open up elf and don't even think about biting _me_."

Of course the elf seemed disinclined to listen – at least until Aldred gave a rather forceful squeeze of his jaw. Elias closed his eyes against the incriminating evidence – the elf's mouth was still bloodied and the gap still just as glaringly obvious. Elias did not know how much of their little tussle Aldred had seen but he knew how it looked and he braced himself for the expected explosion of rage from his Captain. It was not long in coming.

Aldred gave angered incoherent yell and Elias found himself forcibly yanked back up off the ground by his arm before being spun round to face a furious Aldred.

"What have you done to my elf boy?! Where is his tooth?"

Elias tried futilely to shrug but did not get very far what with Aldred's iron grip upon his arm.

"Where is his tooth?!" Aldred thundered again, "I specifically told you he was not to be harmed."

Elias felt himself being flung away from Aldred before a fierce stinging pain took him by surprise as Aldred backhanded him.

"The elf stays with me from now on as clearly you cannot be trusted."

Elias watched as his Captain shook with rage clearly trying to refrain from hitting him again. Instead he stomped on what was left of the cram grinding it into dust with the toe of his boot before grabbing up the water skin and messily sloshing the contents over the elf's lower face and mouth which he had forced open again. The elf struggled but Adlred only tightened his grip on its jaw and forced his knees against the elf's bruised ribs. Once he seemed satisfied the elf had managed to swallow enough he whipped round to face Elias once more.

"Any loss in value from this is coming out of your cut boy," Aldred jabbed an angry finger at him.

"Th- they grow b-back Captain," Elias hated his weak trembling voice just then but he really did not want to rile Aldred up any further.

"A likely story boy," Aldred snorted disbelievingly, "Just get outta my sight and pack up so we can be on the move. I wanna reach the other side of the river by tonight."

**~o~**

Legolas trudged alongside the horse he had been tethered to. Aldred's horse. His hobbled feet ached as he could barely move them yet still had to keep up with the brisk pace that was being set.

He felt so ashamed – being led around like a mere bull with a ring through its nose. Since the incident back at the makeshift camp Aldred had kept him close and was keeping a keen eye on him. It was annoying, there was no chance for escape just now – Legolas would have to bide his time still.

He continued to plod along doing his best to keep up and not fall and be dragged through the filth on the road when he heard it. A low, rumbling guttural noise. Legolas stretched his senses and almost instantly he felt the foul presence in the air and it was getting closer with every hobbled step he took.

Orcs. Orcs were near.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adan – Man
> 
> Ion orch – Son of an orc
> 
> Dírnaith – Military (Troop/Guard)
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Ellon – Male elf
> 
> Adar-nin a Hervess-nin – My faher and my wife
> 
> Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Eledhrim – Elves
> 
> Yéni – (Quenya) Elvish measure of time equalling 144 years. Plural of yén.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orcs...

Legolas came to an abrupt stop. He would not be dragged to his death at the hands of orcs by these _edain._

"Don't start with this again elf. It didn't work last night and it won't work tonight either. You _will_ get a move on," the leader of the men to whom Legolas was tethered sounded angry and Legolas briefly wondered if the man - Aldred - was capable of feeling any other emotion besides anger.

"Yeah elf let's move already – I can't wait to get over the river and completely away from that old haunted forest," this rejoinder came from one of the tall brothers – Legolas hadn't bothered with finding out their names.

Aldred gave a hard yank on the ropes that very nearly sent Legolas crashing to his knees. It was only his innate Elven grace that saved him at the last minute and as he straightened he gave Aldred a look so dark _Morgoth_ himself would have been proud. Despite the pain he knew it would cause him Legolas gave his own tug on the ropes and made a muffled attempt to talk around his cursed gag. He didn't want to be too loud and alert the orcs as at the minute he was sure the beasts had no idea that they were upon the road, but he was desperate to get his feelings across to the men. Surely they did not want to die?

Legolas gave another pull on the rope refusing to give in to the hot pain in his shoulder that made him want to grimace and he again attempted to make himself understood around the thick, rough gag in his mouth.

"Will you be quite elf? I don't want you to wake the entire damn forest," Aldred hissed.

But Legolas would not be still – and seeing that the man could not understand him and seemed disinclined to loosen his gag Legolas decided to try signalling to them instead. He jerked his head in the direction the were going before opening his eyes in a wide and hopefully frightened looking manner before shaking his head from side to side in the universal gesture of refusal. Aldred yanked again and Legolas was forced to shuffle forward or fall but as soon as he had caught his balance again he repeated his previous gestures – a bit more frantically now – hoping the men would understand. He saw anger and exasperation but no comprehension of what he was doing upon the _edain's_ faces so he began again to try and speak around the gag.

He then planted his feet and gave such a great heave that the horse he was secured to jerked back to look at him before whinnying loudly in surprise.

Aldred jumped off his horses back in an exasperated huff and stalked up to Legolas before he gripped him hard by each shoulder and gave him a small shake.

"What! What is it elf? Can you not be silent?"

Legolas again gave an even louder muffled reply whilst he frantically jerked his head in the direction of the road further up ahead. With an exaggerated roll of his eyes Aldred gave him another shake.

He pulled one of Legolas' own daggers on him and pressed it to the delicate skin at the base of his throat, "If you scream out or make any unnecessary loud noises you'll regret it. Got that elf?"

Legolas nodded – he could feel the presence of the orcs getting closer with each passing moment. He stood very still as the men's Captain eased back his gag very aware of his own dagger pressed up against his throat.

He took a moment to flex his jaw muscles then pinned Aldred with a sharp look, "Orcs are coming _adan_ – we need to get off the road. They are very near."

Aldred snorted not easing his grip on Legolas or the knife he held to the elf, "Orcs? They are loud, smelly beasts I think we would know about it if they were about to come upon us."

Now it was Legolas' turn to snort but he held it back deciding for once to act like the Elven Prince he was, "Your hearing and sense of smell are far inferior to my own human. I'm telling you that orcs are upon us and if we do not move now we shall _all_ die."

As if summoned by Legolas' mere words a guttural shout went up into the night air. They all froze in place at the sound apart from Legolas who had whipped his head round in the direction the noise had come from. The _yrch_ were closer now damn it. Legolas directed his gaze to meet Aldred's.

"Give me my weapons human – there are many of them and they are getting ever closer."

"Are you insane elf? Why on ear-"

Legolas' young torturer cut his Captain off abruptly a hint of fear in his grey eyes, "How many are there elf?"

"Forty five to fifty give or take a few," Legolas turned imploring eyes upon Aldred again, "Please let me have my weapons and let us get off the road – it is the only way we will all escape this."

"Why should I believe you elf? How do I know this is not some plot for you to escape? How do I know you do not exaggerate?"

"Begging your pardon Captain but it would be best for us all if you did believe him," the young _adan_ spoke up again, "unfortunately and irritatingly elves are rarely wrong when it comes to these things. Their senses are uncanny."

Aldred tossed a baleful glare in Legolas' direction then with a great annoyed huff he gestured for his men to head off the path. Legolas felt a small amount of relief flood through him as they began to move. He _had_ exaggerated the amount of _yrch_ heading their way but he was glad that the men had believed him and his "uncanny" senses. In all honesty his senses were so clouded by pain he couldn't accurately say how many orcs were headed their way – yet he needed to make the men fearful enough to get off the road so exaggerate he had.

Suddenly a loud, excitable sounding screech rent the quiet night air. Legolas looked down the road with dawning horror – they had taken far too long. There still a good way down the road was an orc scout who now yelled of his find to his comrades. Legolas and the men had been spotted.

**~o~**

Faervel came to a stop and gave a tired sigh as he looked down at the clearing where this nightmare had begun. He could see the large black patches upon the ground where Sanya and her _maethyr_ had built the pyres for burning the _yngyl, môr-edain_ and their loyal horses. He thought of his own faithful steed whom he had directed to go home to the palace without him and without a fuss and gave a smile. Rafn had not liked that command at all but he knew that his stallion would follow it.

Faervel gave a small shake of his head and deciding to waste no more time he slunk down through the trees – he did not know how quickly his fellows he'd left behind would give up on looking for him and leave. They would have to head this way and he did not want them to come upon him and have to explain his actions. Also Sanya had mentioned that the King had sent another two troops out in the hunt for Legolas – they would also be heading for this clearing and he had no intention of being around when they arrived.

His sharp eyes scanned the ground looking at what tracks were still visible. They had followed the tracks that had led away towards the edge of the Wood in their initial hunt for Legolas, Hadril and Arasson yet there were tracks going in the opposite direction heading towards the stream. Faervel darted over to it – Hadril and Arasson had both been gathering water for the morning meal before everything had gone so wrong. Could it be that some of the men had split up and gone off this way? Faervel had been so caught up with the flash of golden hair he had seen he had simply hared off after it without giving any thought to the fact that the men may have split up.

He waded across the stream unmindful of his now soaking leggings and continued to follow the tracks across the bank where the hoof prints of mannish horses were clearly visible to him even in the dark of night. They became a lot less clear as the soft muddy bank gave way to shrubs and bushes again. Still Faervel had no reason to fret – the men who had come this way had clearly been in a hurry and had taken no time to bother concealing their tracks. The bent twigs and snapped branches of the brush paid testament to that fact. Satisfied he had found the trail he was after Faervel leapt back up into the trees, it would be safer up there and he was still able to see the tracks below clearly. Faervel dashed off, keeping a brisk pace as a small determined frown set itself upon his fair face.

He'd left Legolas to face this torment on his own for long enough – he was determined to catch up to Legolas and his captors as soon as he possibly could.

~o~

Legolas gave a pained huff as he was again roughly bumped as the horse he had been carelessly tossed upon hit another divot.

Suddenly the frightened creature reared up giving a great loud whiny and Legolas found himself on the ground with a thump and he struggled to scramble to his feet and avoid being dragged and tossed around as the horse pranced and jumped around in nervous fright. With a quick glance in front of them he could see what had scared Aldred's horse so badly – several large and ugly orcs stood about three hundred feet away leering at them.

"Cut me loose _adan_ I will need my feet to fight those beasts," Legolas picked himself up off the grass and held his hands out towards Aldred who himself was just getting up having also been unseated.

Legolas watched with anger and no small amount of horror as the man instead attached a chain around his wrist and then secured it around Legolas' own.

"I intend to survive this elf and I will not have you run free," with that the man cut all the ropes that had held Legolas prisoner and jerked him closer with a yank on the chain that now connected them.

"Stay close to me elf – fight but don't try anything funny."

Legolas nearly snorted but instead snatched his long knives from the man's waist and turned around just in time to be able to block a sickle shaped weapon that had been headed for his head. He parried and quickly thrust up towards the orc's stomach but found with irritation that his knife did not go as deep as he wanted for his right arm had been pulled back by Aldred fighting with his own broadsword and that had impeded Legolas' move. This would not do at all.

With a flick of his wrist Legolas thrust the blade he held in his left arm into the creature's stomach again watching with satisfaction as it fell. His left shoulder protested that move strongly however and Legolas knew he needed to free his right hand if here were to be able to properly fight and as he looked up he saw his chance. A huge brute of an orc was hurtling towards him its scimitar held high. Legolas let it get close before he held up his right hand high in the air and ducked over to the left. With a clink Legolas felt his right hand come free and he smiled, nimbly ducked a second swing of the scimitar and shoved both his knives deep into the orc's sides. With grim pleasure he pulled them free and cut the beast's throat cleanly not bothering to watch it fall as he turned towards the next one.

Legolas was all elven grace and fury now and he attacked – the adrenalin was pumping and he was free – unshackled, untethered – free. He would be damned if he let these orcs ruin his party now. Pushing his pain aside and instead drawing on all the rage he had felt since his capture he fought fiercely whirling round to smoothly slice the hand off another orc before grabbing it close and slitting its throat. Dropping the foul body he chanced a quick glance around – it was mayhem but the men were putting up a good fight and had dropped their fair share of _yrch_. He destroyed another orc foolish enough to get close to him and then he saw out of the corner of his eye an orc creeping up behind one of the lanky brothers intending to behead him and he flung one of his knives into its leathery neck. The brother whirled round to face him and a look of relief started to cross his face before Legolas leapt towards him and plunged his other knife deep into the man's throat. Legolas pulled back and wiped the red blood from his knife, bent to free his other one from the orc's neck and stalked across the man's body; his murderous intent already focussed on another advancing orc.

He cared not one whit for the man he had just dispatched of. He was going to kill them all – one by one.

**~o~**

Aldred watched in muted horror as the elf stabbed Samer deep in his neck. He had thought for a second that the elf had been helping Samer by killing the orc that had intended to kill the man. He knew now that wasn't so as he watched the elf let Samer's body fall to the ground without a care.

The elf lifted its head and locked eyes with Aldred and he felt a frisson of fear shoot down his spine. Bright blue eyes filled with lethal intent were suddenly no more than three feet away as the elf leapt towards Aldred a calculating smirk upon his beautiful face.

Aldred hardly had time to raise his sword and block the elf's frenzied attack. Blow after blow rained down upon him and it was all he could to feint, block and dodge. The elf was swift – for a being that Aldred knew for a fact was carrying injuries it moved with ease and no small amount of strength. The force behind each blow the elf landed rang up his arms as their weapons clashed again and again.

As Aldred looked up to try and find a gap for him to get off the back foot and start his own attack he saw an orc sneaking up behind the elf scimitar raised, ready to decapitate. Feeling smug Aldred parried then lunged at the elf hoping to keep it occupied until the orc was within range to strike the elf. The elf however neatly dodged his attack and came back fast with his own counter attack that left a deep gash all along Aldred's right arm. He gasped at the sharp pain and scrambled to tighten his grip on his sword as the elf performed a perfect pirouette and quickly and cleanly dispatched of the orc behind it. How had the elf even known that there had been an orc behind it? Aldred was loathe to admit it but he was scared now. Scared of the elf.

He ducked a sudden feeling of urgency coming over him and he whirled round and blindly thrust his sword at his attacker and felt a great deal of relief that it was just an orc and not the elf. Still the great lumbering beast took him a while longer to dispatch than he would have liked now that the elf had torn such a great deep wound in his arm and by the time he had finally killed the orc he had lost sight of the elf. He whirled round in a paranoid circle frightened that the golden haired assassin was simply waiting to pounce on him. Not only that Elias was nowhere to be seen either.

The crunch of a twig had Aldred whirling round again to face a dreadful looking orc with a sneer upon its scarred, twisted face. Aldred gave a deep sigh as he hoisted his sword back up into a battle stance; he was getting tired and his arm throbbed fiercely. Where were all the orcs coming from? Surely there couldn't be that many more left – they had been fighting for what felt like hours and the elf had gone on a rampage killing everything in its path so surely, surely the battle must be near its end?

Aldred blocked the black, serrated blade that had been aiming for his stomach and with another wearied sigh lashed out at the orc.

**~o~**

Elias willed his hands to stop their trembling and his ragged breathing to become softer lest he be heard. For he was hiding and he felt absolutely no shame in the fact at all. He was underneath the remains of a tree stump peering out at what he could see of the bloody battle still being waged in front of him. And he could see a lot – the full moon bathed the entire area with its soft, ethereal glow.

Another tremble ran through his arms and he cursed softly – he was using the elf's bow and had an arrow knocked and ready in case any orc came near. He wasn't scared of facing and fighting the orcs out there, oh no, he'd fought them before and he had no problems in doing so again. They were not the reason he was here in hiding. No, the reason he was cramped up under the stump like a common coward was currently out there, golden hair flying behind it as it viscously fought with Saveric – and Saveric was currently on the back foot.

Elias had seen the elf dive into the path of an orc using it to break the chain Aldred had used to bind them together. He had seen the emotionless ease with which the elf had dispatched any orcs stupid enough to get in its way and he had seen the cold blooded way in which the elf had murdered Samer. Elias bit down on his lip to stop the fury that rose within him – oh how he hated elves – but he could not think on that now he needed to keep calm, be vigilant and ensure neither orc nor elf came near him. For he had no intention of dying this day especially not by the hands of the elf.

Elias shrunk back further into his hidey hole looking on with dull eyes as Saveric fell to ground beneath the elf's onslaught. A great thunderous bellowing suddenly rent the air and it took Elias a moment to realise that the orcs were blowing a trumpet – they were calling for reinforcements. Forcing his shaking hand to steady again he tightened his grip on the arrow.

**~o~**

Legolas spun on his heel at the sound of the orc-ish trumpet. _Eru_ above – they were calling for reinforcements. He looked round him wildly at all the _yrch_ bodies scattered without heed across the ground. They had already defeated so many; surely there couldn't be more still lurking in the shadows.

Legolas' arms shook as the adrenalin began to wear off and his pain began to make itself known in a far more pronounced way. He gave the area another quick glance and decided it was time to leave, he could hear the distant rumble of marching orc feet and he had no intention of staying there to provide a welcome for the approaching _glamhoth._ He had but one thing to do and he was sure it would be quick.

He stalked over to where Aldred had been struggling to take down an orc and he tossed his knife straight into the orc's heart as the man ducked a blow. Legolas stepped over the still crouching man and retrieved his knife before grabbing Aldred firmly by an arm and yanking him up so they were face to face. He smiled wickedly upon seeing the fear in the man's eyes as he realised who had a hold of him.

"My necklace _adan_ \- give it to me now and I'll even let you live," Legolas wanted nothing more than to give this _adan_ the long, slow, torturous death he deserved but he was rapidly running out of time and energy.

He could now feel the malevolent presence of the orcs as the reinforcements got steadily closer. He needed to get his _Naneth's_ necklace and be gone. Aldred had got lucky – Legolas had no time to waste – he'd rather get clear of the area than waste time and what remained of his precious strenght killing the man.

Legolas made another impatient gesture but when the man simply blinked dumbly at him Legolas lost his patience and reached out a hand intending to snatch the dangling jewel from the man's neck. Aldred lashed out at him however the catching him square in the chest. The move was so unexpected that Legolas fell over backwards onto the corpse of the orc he had dispatched moments earlier. A shiver of utter disgust ran up his spine and he shot up bringing his knives up to block a blow from Aldred's sword.

Stupid _adan,_ Legolas cursed angrily, was the man suicidal? Had he not heard the warning of the orc horn? Legolas' anger distracted him enough for the man to be able to swing another wild blow at him and though Legolas stopped its deadly intent the tip of the sharp blade caught him and drew a thin, stinging cut down his left arm. That only served to anger Legolas further and he immediately came back with an attack of his own – his haste, pain and anger fuelled the onslaught as he lashed out with his knives exploiting the man's every weak point.

He needed to get back the necklace – nay - what he really needed back was the ring that hung upon it. He knew he was wasting time and energy engaging in a needless fight with this _adan_ but he could not, would not leave the item that held his strongest memories of his _Naneth_ here amongst the death, decay and orcs. He certainly would not let it linger around the neck of this evil man any longer.

He swung his arm out wide and low and felt satisfaction as his blade slipped with a soft, wet noise into the man's thigh. The _adan_ gave a roar of pain and swung his broadsword one handed at Legolas who ducked and stabbed upwards with his other dagger feeling the blade catch across the man's ribs.

Aldred immediately doubled over in pain, tried to clutch at both his injured side and thigh all at once whilst cursing at the top of his lungs. Legolas did not miss a beat – he snatched at the necklace that dangled from the man's neck breaking the delicate mithril chain. He cared not, he had what he wanted – his _Naneth's_ ring - and with a small smile of triumph he spun on his heels and fled into the brush leaping nimbly over the dead bodies of the orcs and the men's horses.

Legolas let a genuine smile cross his face for what felt like the first time in weeks as he secured the ring in a pocket.

Free. He was finally free.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Yrch – (Plural of Orch) – Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Yngyl – (Plural of Ungol) Spiders
> 
> Môr-edain – Dark (Evil) Men
> 
> Rafn – Faervel's horse – Sindarin name meaning Winged
> 
> Glamhoth – Din horde; yelling horde- Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Naneth - Mother


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Run Leggy run!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to leggyrespect123 who helped give me a different perspective. Thank you

Free. Legolas grunted, what good was it being free from the _edain_ if there was nowhere for him to escape from the new threat that was closing in on him rapidly. He ducked down throwing himself into the midst of a large bush both to assess his current situation as well as have a rest. He was loathe to admit it but he was tired – his strength quickly fading. He had not slept for the past two nights and he had not eaten since he had been ambushed, he was running dangerously close to empty and well he knew it.

He took a moment to rip a strip of cloth from his undershirt – the only clean garment he had left – and wound it around the cut on his left arm. It continued to throb just as fiercely and Legolas grit his teeth against the pain cursing himself for not killing Aldred when he had had the chance, instead he had let the man inflict yet another hurt on him. A sudden yell rent the night air and brought Legolas back to his current situation – how to maintain his freedom and stay out of the hands of the orcs. For being captured by them would be even worse than all he had endured so far.

He peered through the bush he was in trying to calculate what his next move should be. The Wood was far off in the distance a dark smudge against the sky that had now started to slowly lighten. Between him and the wood there were no trees. Well no useful trees – they were all saplings and would not be of any help to him. Legolas looked all around, as far as he was concerned it was a total barren wasteland. Sure, there were bushes and brambles and the tall knee high grass that wavered in the winds but there were no trees, no proper, grown, tall trees that would aid him now, damn it.

In fact, it seemed as if all of nature were against him – despite the rapidly approaching dawn _Ithil_ continued to shine down brightly illuminating the entire area, helping the usually cumbersome orcs find their way with ease. Legolas never thought he'd wish for a lack of moonlight but he sorely did now. The tall grass hid the smaller orcs as well as a few of the cannier ones who were trying their hands at stealth. And there were rocks all over jutting up from the ground – small enough to stumble over but not big enough to hide behind – useless.

_Ai_ _Yavanna_ , he bemoaned, you have failed me this night. Still having a pity party here was no longer an option as the sound of crunching, crackling undergrowth reached him. The _yrch_ were near, it was time for him to move again. But where? Where should he go? To head back towards the Wood would mean heading back toward the road, back toward the scene of the battle – it would be to head straight into the path of the orcs. To head towards the mountains was also folly – _they_ lived there breeding wild and unchecked in every dark hole and every dank cave. Nay, he did not want to head that way either.

"I smell something, quick over this way."

The horrid, guttural sound of Black Speech grated on his sensitive ears and with still no real plan Legolas leapt from the bush and ran.

"Oi over there, look it went that way and I'm sure it was an elf."

Another voice yelled with glee, " _Shara_ or _golug_ lets catch it and have us some fun!"

Legolas' eyes widened as he continued his mad dash away from the voices and horrid stomping feet that had now quickened their pace and were heading right his way.

Think Legolas think, he berated himself mentally; he couldn't keep running blindly forever.

He stumbled tripping up over one of the many accursed rocks and hissed as his palms were cut open by the rough ground as he used his arms to break the fall. A low growl sounded behind him then, close, far too close and the sound oddly enough reminded Legolas of the sounds the bears he hunted in the autumn made.

Bears. Bear. Of course.

It hit him then – his long awaited escape plan. He hauled himself up off the ground and put on a little more speed as he abruptly turned toward the North. Beorn. He'd head to the great skin changer's home. He was wild, uncouth and could be very dangerous himself – particularly in his bear form but he was known to Thranduil and an uneasy peace lay between them. Yes, that was his best chance of survival. If he could only make it that far.

**~o~**

Aldred slumped down to his knees clutching tightly to his wounded side gasping as he tried to get control over the pain. Damn the elf, he thought still breathing raggedly head bowed toward the ground. He could feel the sticky slickness of his own blood seeping through his fingers before he felt rough, calloused fingers close around each of his upper arms. He was hauled roughly back up to his feet and the deep cut in his thigh and long gash in his side both screamed in protest at the sudden move.

All thought of pain fled his mind however as he raised his head to see who had gotten a hold of him. He had half been expecting Elias or perhaps Saveric but was horrified to be face to face with orcs. One on each side and one standing in front of him, leering at him with a smug smile of satisfaction on its scarred, dreadful face. Aldred tried to swallow past the solid lump of fear in his throat. He had been very dismissive of the creatures earlier but in truth he had never seen once close up before and by all the gods he wished he was not doing so now. They were horrifying beasts, with their scars, cuts and open wounds. They had rotten, serrated yellow teeth and beady little eyes. Beady little eyes that now shone with pure malevolent glee at the sight of him caught between them.

" _Krimp alag sharku_ ," the orc that had been smirking at him tossed a length of black rope towards the two flanking at him before giving a jerky nod at Aldred himself. Oh no, he knew what was coming – he did it for a living after all – he was going to be taken captive.

The lead orc barked a few more orders at his two underlings and Aldred had never felt such frustrated helplessness in all his life. He knew not what the orc said – its hard gruff speech beyond him but he knew whatever it was saying would bring him no good. He had to move, fight, he needed to escape. He captured and tortured others – it would not be the other way around.

He gave a sudden jerk of his elbow ramming it hard into the orc on his left whilst simultaneously stomping down hard on the foot of the other. He felt their grip loosen a fraction and it was all he needed, he launched himself at their leader heaving his sword high above his head determined to land a killing blow. The smirk on its face disappeared in an instant and it whirled easily ducking the blow that Aldred had put so much of his dwindling strength and energy into.

Aldred heaved his sword up again – the sword that was starting to feel like a leaden weight in his arms and tried to pull off a quick counter attack. He was too slow though, sluggish, the orc was miles faster and it slammed a metal rod it had been holding hard into his already injured side.

There was a sickening crack followed by Aldred's scream that tore into the pre-dawn air. He found himself back on his knees and his trembling arms just about managed to keep him from sprawling face first in the dirt.

It didn't last long as his arms were grabbed and yanked up behind his back before they were secured by the black rope that was pulled until it bit into the soft flesh of his wrists.

Sharp fingernails dug into his cheeks drawing blood as he was forcefully lifted by his head until he was eye to beady eye with the leader orc again.

It smiled then, showing off crooked teeth before it spoke in shockingly clear Westron, "You will pay human filth. Ay you _will_ pay."

The orc nodded its head then and Aldred felt himself being hauled away, over toward the dak, looming mountains. His head was swimming and not just from the atrocious stench of the orc's breath. His head was swimming with fear – he was the captured one now, he was the one under the control of another, he would have to bend to another's will, he would be the one who would be tortured.

**~o~**

Saveric forced his eyes to remain closed and focussed on breathing as shallowly as he could. He willed himself not to tense up and flinch at the grunting, ragged breathing he could hear not two hundred yards from his current position. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, he chanted to himself, he had to play dead or he really would be dead soon enough. He ignored the still bleeding blow to the head that the elf had dealt him. He'd thrown himself to the ground after the gush of blood that always came with a head wound and miraculously the elf hadn't bothered to check and properly finish him off. He was still alive and he intended to stay that way if he could help it.

There were more of them, more of those awful looking beasts stomping all around him and he prayed to every god he could think of that he would be spared; that these creatures were not ones to go poking around dead bodies, that they would leave him be amongst the corpses and go on about their merry way. Perhaps they could go chase after the elf- yes – that would be a fine thing for them to do.

He willed away he scowl that wanted to form upon his face as he thought about the elf. Stupid, cursed creature that it was, oh sure, beautiful to look upon but it had been such a pain and a burden to him ever since they had captured it. Now as he lay there trying his hardest to fake death he realised that all the riches on Arda were not enough to compensate for dealing with that dreadful race.

He and Samer should never have signed up for this mission no matter how well it promised to pay. They should have stuck to the kidnapping of their own race – at least they knew what they were up against when it came to humans. He forced himself to remain relaxed even as the pain flared suddenly in his heart, keen and sharp. Samer. His brother, his baby brother slaughtered, butchered, neck slit like a suckling pig by that elf. Saveric tried hard to will away the tears that formed as he thought about the injustice of it all; nevertheless a few still slid down his cheeks and he prayed the orcs didn't have very good eyesight even as he berated himself for letting such emotion show.

He couldn't help it though, he and Samer were only three years apart and had always been as thick as thieves. Samer had always looked up to him, hero worshipped him and had followed him wherever he went without a doubt. He in turn had adored Samer and had made sure to teach his little brother everything he knew. He had only ever wanted the best for Samer and himself – their mother had never really cared for them and their father a hopeless drunkard.

He took a slightly deeper breath to try and calm himself and repress the strong emotions currently flooding his mind as he thought about all that he and Samer had suffered through and endured as kids. They had taken to the open road young and had never looked back. Sure it wasn't an honest life but it was a life they had built for themselves free from the drudgery and violence they had dealt with before.

Saveric took another slightly deeper breath to avoid a sigh and forced his mind to calm. He would think about the happier times he and Samer had spent together. And then, when it was morning and the orcs that currently roamed around had gone he would take his baby brother home and bury him. He would see to it that Samer had peace.

His thoughts were cut short suddenly and he held his breath altogether as he heard an orc walk right up to him. It kicked out at him and it was all Saveric could do to not gasp aloud from the sharp pain in his shin. The orc grumbled something before he heard it stomp off. He continued holding his breath for as long as he could before he slowly released it and went back to taking small, shallow breaths, his mind flooded once again with fond memories of his slain baby brother.

**~o~**

Elias' arm was really beginning to cramp up and his fingers holding the arrow knocked had long gone numb. Still he kept his position, breathing as softly and as shallowly as he could all the while keeping a keen eye on all the orcs that wandered around the place. He was fairly certain now that besides them he was alone. Saveric had fallen under the attack by the elf and so far as Elias had seen he hadn't gotten back up again. Aldred was nowhere to be seen and neither was the elf.

Elias let a malicious smile creep over his face – hopefully the elf had gone after Aldred and had gotten him too. Elias may have worked for the man but he felt no loyalty toward him – it was the amount money promised and the chance to harm an elf that had actually kept him working for Aldred; for after their last mission which hadn't paid so well he had been ready to leave Aldred and his miserable bunch of bandits. Yet the promise of being able to exact some pain on a race he had long despised had been too great an opportunity for him to walk away from.

What a shame the orcs had come and spoilt the fun. He was sure that he would have been able to get back in Aldred's good books again (he always had) and have another chance at inflicting more harm and pain on the elf. He ran through the various tortures he'd inflicted on the elf and felt a thrill of pleasure shoot up his spine – what glorious fun that had been – it really was too bad it was now all over. He hadn't even gotten to learn the elf's name. Ah well, Elias shrugged mentally, the game was over and he would have to start thinking of himself, of what is next move should be.

He'd already decided on his first move – as soon as it was morning and the filthy orcs went back into their holes he'd leave his horrid cramped hiding spot and make his way over to Laketown. He'd decide his next moves from the comforting safety of an _Esgaroth_ pub.

**~o~**

The tip of a dull, blackened blade caught on his belt forcing Legolas to give a startled leap forward. _Valar_ , he hadn't thought they were so close to him; if the orcs were within sword distance then he'd either really have to speed up or stop, turn around and fight them.

Legolas put on another tiny burst of speed – he really didn't want to have to fight. He was so, so tired though, his breath was now starting to come in ragged gasps and his ankles hurt. They had been tied up and cramped for so long that now Legolas was really putting them to use again they were groaning in protest. Not to mention his left shoulder now felt like it was on fire thanks to his earlier killing spree – it was another reason he needed to keep going, get faster and get away rather than keep on fighting. He wasn't sure how much more abuse his shoulder would put up with before quitting on him altogether. He didn't want to push it so far that he'd end up damaging the joint permanently or worse still becoming crippled in that arm.

Legolas risked a furtive glance back to see if he had managed to put any distance between himself and his pursuers. To his surprise they had all stopped some three hundred yards or so behind him. The reason why became clear as he spotted one of the beasts sighting a crossbow.

_Ai Elbereth_ why? Could nothing go his way this night? Did the _Valar_ truly despise him this much? Legolas gathered what remained of his strength and energy and began to run wildly from side to side trying to present as difficult a target as he could manage. Curse those _edain,_ Legolas thought bitterly, they had stolen his bow and if only he had it with him now he could have picked off a few of the orcs and given himself time to escape. Instead he was the one fleeing for his life like a hunted deer.

The first crossbow bolt flew mere millimetres past his right ear and Legolas panicked. That had been so close. Another shot past him this time missing him by inches – not as close as the first but still far too close. These orcs were proving to be unusually good shots and Legolas cast his eyes around desperately searing for something he could use for cover. Why were there no trees in this damnable place? Or anything that came up past his waist he could properly duck behind? With a frustrated growl Legolas ran a little bit quicker and continued with his zig-zagging. He started to stray more towards the cliff side hoping that he'd be even harder to spot in the shadows that the looming mountain sides cast. He chanced another quick look back and was relieved to see the orcs arguing amongst themselves the crossbow being tugged back and forth between two of them.

Legolas smirked and decided to use the distraction he had been so miraculously given. He would keep to the shadows cast by the cliffs for now and then once he was far enough away he would make a break for it and run as hard as he could across the plains, back across the river and toward the relative safety of Beorn's homestead. Satisfied with his plan for the moment he slowed his pace just a fraction – he could hear that the orcs chasing him were still some way behind.

Pain suddenly ripped through his entire being and he was flung to the ground by the sheer force of a stabbing blow to his shoulder. His left shoulder. Of course it would be that shoulder, Legolas lamented as he grit his teeth and tried to gather his wits and his hurting body off the ground. What had just happened? That question was partially answered for him as the sound of orcs chattering above him in their dreadful Black Speech reached his ears. The cliffs – why had he gotten so near them? The mountains were their domain after all. He could hear the crunch of the gravelly ground as several of the orcs leapt down from their perch to surround him.

Legolas shoved himself up forcefully from the rock strewn ground and he could not stop his shout of agony as he moved his left arm. The was something stuck in it, grating against his shoulder blade with every minute move he made. He had no time to inspect the wound though as the first of the orcs surrounding him made a lunge for him. Legolas manged to grab his right dagger and blocked the blow before spinning to his right to block another.

They had him hemmed in – there was a loose circle of five orcs surrounding him all leering with undisguised blood lust in their beady little eyes. Legolas took a deep breath hoping to clear the pain induced fog in his head, this was still a salvageable situation. He could yet escape. He had taken on more orcs that this before on his own. Granted he had never been this injured before when he had done so – nevertheless he had to try. He would die fighting on his feet, he would not roll over and give in; he was of the line of Oropher and the sheer stubbornness flowing through his veins would never allow him to quit.

He lunged forward dagger plunging straight into the neck of an orc that had gotten too close. Legolas kicked out at the body now spurting black ichor getting it out of his way before he jumped at the next orc in the circle. He was fighting one handed, he had to, he had no choice. His left arm hung limp at his side and Legolas knew now that he had been shot by another crossbow bolt after having worked so hard to avoid that very fate. He would not be able to move his left arm no matter how hard he tried. Still at least he had his legs and Legolas parried a blow from the orc in front of him before he spun round to aim a hard kick to the jaw of an orc attempting to come up behind him. The sickening crunch of breaking bone was music to the Prince's ears as he quickly returned his attention to orc had been facing off against.

He parried and blocked the onslaught of blows the orc was sending his way as best he could. The other two were hovering just in the range of his peripheral vision unsure of how best to attack the feisty elf in front of them. A sudden nick along his arm had him gasping and immediately focussing his entire attention back on the orc in front of him.

The orc had the upper hand and it knew it as it continued to press its advantage over Legolas. The malevolence he could already feel in the air swiftly spiked as the crunching sound of heavily booted feet heralded the approach of yet more orcs and a feeling of total and utter despair washed over Legolas. Was he really to die here? Alone, away from his beloved home and at the hands of _yrch_?

Nay, Legolas pushed the despairing thoughts back, he refused to die this night. He swiftly jumped back out of the reach of the orc's sword before aiming a flying kick to its throat. Legolas' foot made firm contact with the beast's neck and there was a loud pop; but he cared not he was running again heading straight for the looming shape of the Misty Mountains. It was a gamble of course, for the _yrch_ would know the mountains better than him but if he was lucky, by the grace of the _Valar_ he might just find somewhere to hide, some small shelter where he could wait out the orcs and the rescue that was undoubtedly already looking for him. There was no doubt in his mind that the news of his capture would have already reached Thranduil and Legolas knew his _Adar_ would send the best of the troops out in search of him. One of the Princely perks he was currently very glad he enjoyed.

The mountain was suddenly there before him all dark shifting shadows, cold mist and jagged rocks. He was loathe to continue on but he made for the first path he could see and continued his dash along it as it wounds upwards. At least here he could duck and dodge behind any of the many great boulders strewn around. Legolas hated to admit it but it was safer in the mountains than down on the open plains. He just need to keep his wits about him and keep his senses stretched as far as they could go so that he could stay one step ahead of the orcs and safely out of their clutches. If he was really lucky and _Eru_ was feeling kindly toward him he might even find a safe place where he could stop, rest and most importantly tend to the agonising wound in his shoulder. From what Legolas could feel it wasn't bleeding much at the moment – only the odd bit trickled down his back from time to time thanks to the bolt still firmly wedged in his shoulder.

He pushed onwards, the path already beginning to get steeper and Legolas willed his aching body to keep on pushing.

"We will find you elf," the harsh snarling words of the orcs echoed eerily around the mountain side, "No elf knows these mountains better than us. We'll find you and then we'll really have some fun."

"You'll be sorry you made us chase you _gulug_."

"Here elf, elf, elf – be a good sport and come on out."

The sudden din from the _yrch_ was deafening and Legolas knew the _glamhoth_ were trying to confuse and panic him with their echoing shout and jeers. It only steeled his resolve however and he quietly slipped off the path he was on and began to pick his way up an offshoot that looked like it hadn't been walked on in a while. He would prove them wrong; they'd not catch him. Alas for the poor orcs, he thought fiercely, they shall simply have to have their fun without me.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Ithil – Moon
> 
> Yrch – (Plural of Orch) – Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Shara – (Black Speech) – Human Man
> 
> Gulug – (Black Speech) - Elf
> 
> Krimp alag sharku – (Black Speech) – Bind that old man
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> A/N: So Elias lives to fight another day. We will see him again in another story – I just felt he had a bit more potential left in him yet and I didn't want to kill him off without exploring his character a bit more. Hope you are all still enjoying and as ever thank you so much for your reviews. They really help.


	20. Chapter 20

Faervel hissed as yet another small twig smacked him in the face but his brutal pace did not waver. The twigs and branches that kept assaulting him could and would usually be avoided with ease if he was moving with any care whatsoever. However he was madly dashing through the boughs as fast as his legs could carry him. He could not allow Legolas to spend any more time than necessary as a captive. He glanced down, briefly slowing his frantic pace to ensure he was still on the men's trail. It was a bit harder to tell here, as he got nearer the edge of the forest but with dawn swiftly approaching he was able to pick out what tracks there were. Convinced that he was still headed in the right direction he upped his pace again.

His mind wandered as it often had these past few days to Legolas. He wondered how his friend was faring. Were the men treating him well? Faervel shook his head at himself. What was he saying? He had seen how Arasson and Hadril had been treated by the men – why would they treat Legolas any differently? That acknowledgement made his blood boil and his heart clench at the same time. He began to mentally run through what medical supplies he had managed to take with him and he fervently hoped Legolas would not have much of a need of them. For he hadn't taken much. Pain killing leaves, a couple antibacterial and fever reducing herbs, twine and two needles all nestled in a small pouch at his side. He hadn't taken much as he knew that Arasson and Hadril would need a fair amount of medical supplies to keep them out of _Mandos_ Halls whilst they were en-route to the palace. He sighed aloud thinking of the troop he had abandoned and hoped his fellow _maethyr_ wouldn't be too displeased with him. He also hoped they would all continue on with their plan and head for the palace and not waste time and energy in searching for him.

He gave his head another firm shake – he was in very real danger of becoming maudlin. He needed to get a hold of himself now and focus on the task at hand. He was on the cusp of the forest boundary now – the trees were rapidly getting thinner - he needed to pay attention and have his wits about him for there would soon be no more trees to protect and hide him. Also he had no idea how fast (or slow) the men were travelling and he needed to be prepared for when he caught up to them. He firmly pushed all worries to the back of his mind and pressed on this time not even feeling the tiny braches that clawed at him.

**~o~**

Aithel reached out her hand to soothe Rafn for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. The huge black stallion was in a skittish mood and kept stopping and sniffing the air as though hoping for some clue as to where his master had disappeared to. He also looked back in the direction they had come from with a rather forlorn look on his face, but he never stopped for long and kept on moving with them.

That was the major clue that had let Aithel know that Faervel was ok and that he hadn't been snatched by anymore evil Men lurking nearby. For Rafn would never have left the clearing if Faervel had come to harm – the fact that the great war horse was trotting along with them showed that Faervel was ok and perhaps had even commanded that Rafn go with them. Like with all elvish horses Rafn had been taught utmost loyalty and obedience to his master; therefore if Faervel had told him to go then go he would (however reluctantly) – ever obedient and faithful.

Still knowing that Faervel had not likely come to any harm (yet) was not making Aithel feel any less annoyed with him. He could have at least told her what he was planning rather than leaving her and Camaendir to search the immediate area in a fruitless hunt for him. Feren and Magoldir had also got involved in the brief hunt before she had finally called them back and together with Sanya's troop they decided to continue onwards to the palace without him for the sake of their injured fellows. They were their priority now – she could only pray that Faervel would be safe and that he would steer clear of trouble.

Of course she knew that was unlikely for she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Faervel had gone after Legolas. He would never have been content to go back to the palace with them whilst Legolas was still out there and in all honesty she knew that if he had told her his plan she would have done her best to talk him out of it. She also knew that he wouldn't have listened no matter what she said – Faervel and Legolas were very close – always had been and Faervel had been very protective of his blonde friend ever since they had both been promoted as warriors of the Woodland realm. He was always fussing round making sure Legolas didn't get so caught up in his Captain's duties that he forgot to take care of himself. Legolas professed loudly to all and sundry about Faervel's annoying mother hen tendencies but he never actually did anything to stop Faervel and she supposed that's just how their friendship was – Faervel was an overly caring, gentle soul after all.

Yet for all his kindness and gentle demeanour Faervel could be as hard and as cold as steel when he needed to be. He could go from cheery and caring to fell and fearsome when those close to him were threatened – she felt bad for the Men who had Legolas if Faervel got to them before the King's search parties. She had seen him at his most cold and clinical when fighting for his comrades lives and she knew he'd be even more so with his best friend's life being the one in the balance.

Still she sent up a small prayer to _Elbereth_ for protection of them both. They were both dear to her and she could not even entertain the thought that neither would return. It was bad enough that Hadril and Arasson were barely clinging to their lives; it felt as if her troop were falling apart around her and she could not stop the sharp flare of rage that rose within her as she glowered at the backs of their mannish captives – they were responsible for all this.

Almost as if he could feel the hot glare on his back one of the Men suddenly stumbled and fell to his knees. Aithel was there in an instant having jumped from her horse and stalked over to the man.

"Gwaem hû úgaun, get up now," she snarled as she hoisted the man up by his shoulder.

"P-please it is my leg it was injured be-"

Aithel grabbed the man's face in one hand jerking him so looked her directly in the eye, "I do not care what ails you human, and you will not hinder us. My comrades health matters more than your discomfort – if you hold us up or slow us down I will slit your neck like the pig you are and be rid of you!"

"Sîdh Aithel," her arm was gently pulled back by a worried looking Magoldir, "Do not let the _edain_ so easily rile you. They will be punished in time by _Aran_ Thranduil."

Aithel loosened her bruising grip on the man's face before walking back to her mare and jumping back upon it. She kept her head down as the group again began to move. She felt so helpless and like she had somehow failed in her duties. She was second in command yet she had never felt so out of control before – everything had gone so wrong, so very wrong and she had to return to the palace and explain everything to the War Council and the King himself. Sanya had sent ahead a missive to the King giving him an update but still, she would be the one as Captain in Legolas' absence who had to stand and explain all to _Aran_ Thranduil face to face. She dropped her head even further letting her chin rest upon her chest as the full weight of the attack and its aftermath seemed to crush down upon her all at once.

Please Faervel bring him home, she let out a small sigh, please both of you return home soon.

Hoisting back her shoulders and holding her head proud once more she again hopped down to walk alongside the horses carrying Hadril and Arasson. She may have no control over the fate of Faervel and Legolas but she would be damned if she lost either Hadril or Arasson. At the very least she would not fail them.

**~o~**

"There are urgent messages here for you _Aran-nin._ "

Thranduil looked up warily at the two scrolls Bôr held out to him. With the smallest of sighs Thranduil signed the document that lay in front of him with a flourish and stamped his seal to it before handing it over to the councillor at his side. A quick flick of his wrist and the councillor was dismissed leaving Thranduil alone with his secretary.

"Read them for me Bôr and give me the meat of the matter – I find I am developing a headache."

Bôr gave a small dip of his head in acknowledgment before proceeding to break the seals on the scrolls and read. Thranduil waited patiently pushing his loose hair back with ink stained fingers. He wasn't too concerned about the messages – he would have felt it if Legolas had died. He simply felt a bone aching weariness that had him feeling every single one of his millennia of years here on Arda. He was tired, he'd not properly slept since receiving news of Legolas' disappearance feeling far too restless to find any meaningful kind of sleep. So it was that he was here in his study at the crack of dawn and had spent the entire night holed up there with this work. His body nagged at him for rest but Thranduil knew he would be unable to silence his mind if he tried for sleep so decided to just push on and carry on with his work. He may be unable to help Legolas right this moment but he needn't be idle.

"Well _Aran-nin -"_

"Do not _Aran-nin_ me Bôr we are here alone – formalities matter not."

"Ahh sorry _Ara_ – uh – um – Thranduil. The first message is from Aglardaer, the troops have made good progress and have already cleared the Northern face of the mountains. He reports no casualties on their end save a number of bites and stings. It's nothing they can't handle and all the afflicted _maethyr_ will make full recoveries."

Bôr looked up with a small frown on his face before continuing, "He also reported that they found a large cave full of spiderlings and egg sacs; of course they destroyed it all scouring the entire cave with flames but he fears that the mountains will hold many more such caves with most of them shielding adult _yngyl_."

Thranduil nodded satisfied, it was as he had suspected – the Evil One's helpers had already been gaining another stronghold within his land. He was pleased he had decided to act now and he was even more pleased with the progress of his troops thus far. Quick, swift and efficient. Thranduil allowed himself a small smile – his warriors were the best in all of Arda of that he had no doubt.

"Good, you will write back to him that he and the troops are to continue their good work and to ensure they leave no cave unexplored and no stone unturned. _All_ the _yngyl_ must be destroyed."

"Of course _Ara –_ sorry – Thranduil, I will see to it."

"What was the other message? Who is it from?" Thranduil glanced up from fiddling with his inkpots in time to catch the brief look of nervousness that flashed across his secretary's face.

His heart clenched suddenly, painfully even as the more sensible part of him reminded him that he would have known of Legolas' demise long before any scroll brought him word of it. Still why that look from Bôr?

"Well _mellon-nin_ I still have much work to do, do not keep me in suspense," Thranduil kept his voice steady and calm though his heart still stubbornly thumped at a fierce pace in his chest.

"Sorry Thranduil, the second scroll is from _Hest_ Sanya; they are on their way to the palace now having stabilised Hadril and Arasson."

"That is good news indeed. We will alert the troops in case they come across them and tell the patrols to keep an eye out for them."

Thranduil pinned Bôr with a look then arching an eyebrow at him, "Did she say aught else?" Thranduil wanted to find out what had caused the nerves to creep up on his unflappable secretary.

"Um yes,"

There it was again, that nervous glance and loss of eloquence from an _ellon_ so skilled at word play.

"Just spit it out already Bôr. I hardly think there can be news worse than that I have already received."

"Of course my Ki- Thranduil. Sanya has reported that the main town of the Woodsmen in the South has been overrun by the very same Men that attacked and captured the Prince."

"What?! You mean to tell me that the _edain_ who committed this atrocity are still here in _my_ realm?" Thranduil was on his feet now all fatigue forgotten as he processed the news.

"Yes, she says that they were told Legolas was being held there and that Feren and Magoldir went to scout it out. They found no sign of the Prince but saw that the Woodsmen are being held captive in their own homes by these mercenaries."

"In your message to Aglardaer instruct him to immediately send some troops to free the Woodsmen and that they need not show any mercy to the mercenary _edain_ they find there."

Thranduil hardly heard Bôr's affirmative reply over the thundering roar of blood in his ears; by the _Valar_ he was so very angry. How dare those _ŷn yrch_ take up residence in his realm after what they had done? Did they truly fear the elves so little? Thranduil grit his teeth, they would soon learn the error of their ways.

"Thranduil?"

Thranduil looked up at Bôr as he realised he had missed what had been said to him entirely.

Bôr gave a sympathetic smile, "I was saying that there is one more bit of news from Sanya."

Thranduil gave Bôr his full attention now – please let there be now more bad news, he mentally pleaded.

"What is it?" he asked warily.

"Faervel has gone missing," Bôr held out his hand in a placating manner even as Thranduil felt his heart drop, " _S_ _îdh Ara-_ Thranduil,it seems that he has gone of his own accord – gone after Legolas."

Thranduil sat back down in his seat suddenly, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Faervel was fulfilling his pledge – a pledge Thranduil had tried to talk him out of and one that Legolas knew nothing about. Faervel had gone to fulfill his duty as Legolas' bodyguard for better or for worse. Thranduil shook his head as he tried to get the solemn, sobering words of the Pledge of the Royal Body Guards out of his mind. Faervel was too young – he never should have allowed it; but still the boy was taking his duty seriously. Thranduil could only hope that he would be able to thank and honor him properly – he hoped with all his heart that the friends would both return safely.

"Thank you Bôr, I trust that is all?," at the affirmative nod Thranduil continued, "Well then please write back to _Hest_ Sanya thanking them all for their work in bringing their injured fellows home safely. Let them know the patrols will be keeping an eye out for them."

Bôr nodded and gathered the scrolls in his hands as he made to leave.

"One more thing Bôr," Thranduil's soft voice stopped his secretary in his tracks, "Please will you send for the Lady Ídhes. I must inform her of her son's disappearance."

Bôr bowed low and deep before leaving Thranduil's study to do as he had been bid.

Thranduil stared out the window steeling himself for his talk with Faervel's mother. Of course she knew her son was a Royal Bodyguard and had in fact even helped sway Thranduil's decision when he had been set to turn down Faervel's request; but still it would not be easy news for her to hear.

He continued his staring as he wondered how two of the _ellyn_ closest to his heart were faring. It had been a long time indeed but perhaps he should pray?

He'd long ago decided to never again ask the Valar for anything but for the life of his son and his son's dear friend Thranduil would perhaps even consider begging.

**~o~**

Elladan canted a look behind him and nearly sighed aloud at how his twins eyes were darting from rock face to rock face, searching, seeking, _hoping_ to find some dark, dank hole that they had not yet explored. Despite the fact that they had been out upon errantry for the past three months riding with the Dunedain and hunting orcs still, _still_ Elrohir's thirst for orc blood had not been quenched. His twin was still hoping to chance upon one of their dens and unleash his seemingly never ending fury upon them.

Elladan turned to face forward in his saddle again keen eyes scanning the path ahead. These mountain passes were treacherous and only a select few were able to be traversed upon horse back. Elladan did not doubt that Alarca was able to navigate the path without his help but he still kept a sharp eye out for anything that could trip them up. They had been hunting in the mountains for the past two weeks and in all honesty Elladan was fed up now. His blood lust did not run as strongly anymore and after much arguing he had finally convinced Elrohir that they should head back to the Dunedain camp in the foothills on the other side of the mountains.

Elrohir had agreed on the proviso that they took this particular path back over the other side of the mountains. It was one of the longest, most winding and most treacherous. There were numerous smaller off shooting paths that lead deep down into caves and grottos that orcs liked to frequent and nest – Elladan was wise to why his brother had picked this path in particular. Still he went along with it – he had his own reasons after all for letting his twin have his way. He knew well that Elrohir would be unable to resist exploring the many smaller paths in search of _yrch_ and that suited him. For Elrohir had said that once they left the mountains that their stay with the Dunedain should be brief for he wished to return back home to Imlardris.

Elladan however wanted to put off going back for as long as possible – for after all this time Imlardris still felt empty and hollow – it still did not feel like the home it once was to him. It was a place he went to appease Elrohir who had recently put real effort into reconciling with their _Adar_.

Elladan was still unsure of himself around Elrond, nervous about initiating conversation with him and unsure how to make meaningful amends for all the grief and hurt he had caused Elrond. He felt as though there was a chasm between them, not as yawning or as deep as it had been, but it was still there and Elladan just did not know how exactly he was meant to close that gap once and for all. How was he supposed to take back all the hateful, spiteful, hurt and angry words he had hurled at his _Adar_? How could he apologise when some small part of him still felt that way? Not only that he hated going back to what he felt were reproachful looks thrown their way by two _ellyn_ he held dear to him. He hated the looks he got from Glorfindel and Erestor when he and Elrohir dragged themselves back. No, he would rather put off dealing with all those emotions for as long as possible; so he would endure Elrohir's endless orc pursuit.

A sudden clattering of hooves on stone had him whipping round to check on his twin, "Elro _manen le_? Is Arauca alright?"

" _Avaro naeth_ Elladan. It was only a small slip – I did not see the divot there. We're both fine," Elrohir waved off his concern.

"Well then pay more attention to the path Elro. Tis dawn now anyways – there will be no more orcs to be had now. Our concern should be finding a place we can bed down until evening."

At the small frustrated huff his twin gave Elladan smiled, "Do not worry _gwanur-nin_ , we will be up as soon as the first shadows fall. The _glamhoth_ will rue plaguing this path."

Elrohir gave him a smile at that, "Then lead the way 'Ladan."

Thankful for the small break from the orc hunting Elladan tapped his heels gently against Alarca eager to get on and find a place to rest.

**~o~**

Legolas winced as his already split and bloodied palms met with jagged rock as he literally hauled himself up the path. This particular bit of it was really steep and he couldn't quite manage it at the moment without the aid of his hands. He was starting to shake, a fine tremor running all through his aching body causing his teeth to chatter rather annoyingly against each other. He didn't think orcs had such fine hearing but he still didn't want to risk it and was trying to be as quiet as possible.

He heaved a pain-filled sigh as he crested the patch of steep path he was upon. The remainder of the path that stretched ahead of him looked to run smooth and straight for a good while.

Thank the _Valar,_ Legolas heaved another tired breath, he was exhausted and he was unsure how much farther he could go before his body would give out on him. As much as he was loathe to do so Legolas reckoned that it was high time he found some shelter. He needed a bit of rest and to tend his injuries as best he could in order to stand any chance of leaving the mountains alive.

He stretched his senses straining to hear over the unsteady thumping of his heart and his own laboured breathing. He couldn't hear any of the tell-tale signs of _yrch_ nor could he smell them or feel their malevolence. Deciding he could afford to relax a little bit he decided to head up just a little further along the trail to see if he could find any shelter free from orcs, goblins and wargs. He hadn't seen any of the latter two as of yet but he knew they too lived in these mountains and he was keen not to happen upon them if could at all help it.

**~o~**

Legolas gave a cautious sniff at the mouth of the small cave he had stumbled upon. It smelt fairly clean, of earth and damp stone. Most importantly it did not smell of orc, warg or goblin. Legolas was glad yet he was still cautious as he entered, his dagger held in his right arm in a defensive position – he would not be taken unawares.

The cave was small only about ten feet deep and about six feet wide. Legolas gave a small internal nod of satisfaction (his head hurt far too much to actually nod) and decided that he would be stopping here. It had taken him far longer than he would have liked to find a suitable place to rest, the sun was now high in the sky and Legolas was bone weary having had to keep on walking until he found suitable shelter. He'd ended up a lot deeper into the mountains than he'd wanted to go but he was sure that the orcs had lost his trail. He was also pretty sure that all the Evil One's minions were now tucked up in their nests and burrows hiding away from the sunlight. Logically Legolas knew now was the best chance of getting away from the mountains unseen but he simply couldn't; not with the way his knees were knocking and the ever increasing tremors that wracked his abused frame. No, he would have to spend at least one more night up here, hopefully avoiding the attention of anything unfriendly and then start making his way back down the mountains the following morning. It wasn't an ideal plan but at the moment it was the most he could hope for.

Giving his new abode one final look over Legolas settled himself in a small hollow just to the left of the cave opening. He smiled in grim satisfaction – he would spot anyone or anything coming into the cave long before they even glimpsed him. Perfect.

Legolas arranged himself then into the most comfortable position he could find – which was fairly difficult given his numerous injuries and the small matter of the crossbow bolt protruding from his wrecked shoulder. He really did need to do something about that but at the moment he didn't think it would be wise to attempt anything – his hands were shaking so very badly that he would most likely injure himself further if he tried to remove the bolt. At the very least it was keeping the blood loss in check for he could still only feel the tiniest trickle of it down his back from time to time. He would leave it be for now.

Gingerly he leaned up against the cold rock on his right side. He'd just take a moment, take a breather and gather his strength again. Then one he'd stopped shaking he'd deal with the troublesome and painful bolt.

The elven Prince had underestimated just how tired he really was however and within mere moments he had drifted off into the pain free bliss of dreamless sleep eyes sliding firmly shut.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Gwaem hû úgaun - Let's go cowardly dog
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Aran-nin/Aran - My King/King
> 
> Yngyl – (Plural of Ungol) Spiders
> 
> Mellon-nin - My friend
> 
> Hest – Captain
> 
> Ellon/Ellyn – Male Elf/Elves
> 
> Ŷn yrch – Sons (ŷn is plural of ion) of Orcs (Yrch is plural of orch)
> 
> Yrch – (Plural of Orch) – Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Manen le? – How are you
> 
> Avaro naeth - Don't worry
> 
> Gwanûr-nin - My Brother
> 
> Glamhoth – Din horde; yelling horde- Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Horses:
> 
> Rafn – Faervel's horse – (Sindarin) Winged
> 
> Alarca - Elladan's horse (Quenya) Agile
> 
> Arauca - Elrohir's horse (Quenya) Swift


	21. Chapter 21

Faervel exhaled a tired breath whilst he contemplated his next move as he sat upon a sturdy branch in one of the very last trees on the Wood's border. His sharp but tired eyes had scanned the plains for some sign of what direction the men had taken. It did not taken him long to find one – for the men had left a very big clue – a huge amount of bodies lay out in the open with the afternoon sun shining down upon them.

Faervel stared some more unsure of what to do next, he didn't want to rush headlong into trouble but he was also loathe to let more time pass with Legolas still held captive. He looked again – from what he could see all the bodies were orc-ish but he'd have to get closer in order to calm his racing mind that Legolas' body was not crushed in amongst them. He gave a resigned sigh and was about to hop down from his lofty perch when movement caught his eye in amongst the thorny bushes near the Old Ford. Faervel instantly pressed back against the tree's trunk and gave it a fond pat as it re-arranged its leaves to cover him better.

There was no more movement for a long moment and Faervel was just beginning to wonder if his tired eyes were now seeing things when the shrubs rustled again. He peered down intently and was surprised to see a man on all fours making slow careful movements along the ground. Faervel cocked his head to the side and watched in bewilderment as the man continued his slow crawling through the brambles. Why in the _Valar's_ name did the _adan_ not just stand up and walk normally? For surely that could not be very comfortable, he mused as he continued to watch the man, he would be getting scratched to pieces.

He narrowed his eyes and instantly knocked an arrow as the answer came to him. Of course – the man was hiding. Why else go through such trouble? He grit his teeth and he began to stealthily make his way down to the ground. He was certain that this man was part of the group he'd been tracking – part of the group who had taken Legolas. Why else would an _adan_ be out here taking such great care to stay unseen?

Too bad, Faervel thought fiercely as he dropped lightly to the ground with nary a sound, he'd been spotted now.

He hurried to catch up to the spot he had last seen the man making sure to keep his tread light and near soundless. In no time at all he was behind the man's thorny hiding spot. It was trickier here even an elf would struggle to move soundlessly among the snagging brambles; so without further ado Faervel drew back his arrow and aimed.

"Stop human."

The man froze for a second before he sprung up and made a run for it. Or at least he tried to. Faervel shot off his arrow grazing the man's ankle and sending him sprawling to the floor. Faervel gave him no time to recover and quickly yanked him up off the ground and pulled his arms tight behind him in a painful and debilitating hold.

"Please, please…argh…you're hurting me. I'm …ugh…a simple farm hand please…argh…stop." The man tried to wriggle out of his iron grip to no effect.

Faervel forced him down to his knees, then face down onto the ground. With one hand still holding the man's arms in place he clumsily loosened his belt with the other before using it to bind the _adan's_ arms in their current position. He usually had rope with him but all of it had gone toward the safe transport of Hadril and Arasson back to the Palace. His belt would do in a pinch.

Satisfied with his work he rolled the man over to get a better look at him, caging him in with his knees. He arched a perfect ebony eyebrow at the trembling human beneath him.

"A simple farm hand you say? Then why are you so far from any of the farms in this area?"

"I…I…I"

"And why do you wear such fine jewellery?" Faervel's stared pointedly at the _mithril_ earrings that twinkled in the man's ears.

"I may be a farm hand but…but I'm not so poor as you think elf," the man squirmed against his hold, "Even the humble like me can afford something nice once in a while."

Faervel gave a loud snort, "Ah _adan_ you nearly sound convincing, but I know for a fact that those earrings cost more than a farm hand could ever afford."

The man gave a mighty heave against his bonds again, "You have no right to treat me like this. I…I'm a simple farm hand and my master has given me a few days off. Now get off me!"

Faervel rolled his eyes, clearly the _adan_ wanted to make this as difficult as possible and he _really_ did not have the time or patience for it. In an instant his dagger was at the man's throat.

"I know to whom those earrings belong thief! I suggest you lead me to him before I cut you into tiny pieces." Faervel knew he was snarling at the man but he could not calm himself.

He knew this man had to be one of those who had taken his best friend. He knew those earrings belonged to Legolas – they were standard issue to all the warriors of Mirkwood. Small hoops that would not get caught in anything yet were still attractive. And distinctly elvish – there was nowhere else the man could have gotten them.

Faervel stood dragging the man up with him. "Lead me to him – and no nonsense. Do not think of trying to escape me or of leading me on a merry dance. There are more elves on their way here as we speak." He was bluffing about the reinforcements; he knew the search parties were out there but he had no idea when they would arrive here – still the _adan_ did not need to know that.

Faervel gave one of his knives a dramatic twirl, "If you _do_ try anything in the meantime I will cut off all your extremities. Starting with those nicely adorned ears of yours."

The man's eyes went wide at the threat before he nodded toward the direction he had come from.

"I…I didn't have him with me…b-but I can s-show you where I l-last saw him. But in the name of all the gods elf d-don't cut off my ears."

Faervel smiled nastily, "Less talking, more walking. If you do as I ask you may keep your ears." With that he gave the man a small shove forward and they began to walk in the direction of the Great River.

At length the man spoke up again.

"You…you can have them back if you wish…t-the earrings."

Faervel simply snorted and gave the man another push. Legolas would never want them back, let the _adan_ keep them for all the good they would do him.

**~o~**

Saveric felt his knees knock as they at last approached the bloody battle field from the previous night. In all honesty he hadn't actually stopped shaking since he'd been threatened by the elf – he was just trembling a lot more visibly now. He slowed to a stop as the scent of blood and death began to waft over to him. He did not want to go any closer than this. The elf could take it from here.

"What have you stopped for _adan?_ "

He was shoved forward again by the elf and he turned round angrily, "We are here or are you blind elf? I do not need to get any closer to that mess. This is where I last saw your elf friend so you can look for him yourself. Now untie me – I have done what you asked."

To his annoyance the elf huffed a little laugh and gave him an even more forceful shove forward.

"You are going to help me search human," another shove, "besides you helped create this mess. So you can help clean it."

Saveric came to a complete halt again, "What?! What on Arda do we have to clean it for?"

The elf sighed as he grabbed his elbow and steered him forward again. "We cannot leave this place in such a filthy state. After all even what is evil should be buried with dignity. Now let's get a move on – and show me exactly where you last saw my friend."

**~o~**

Saveric glared down at his filthy, once again bound hands. They dripped with the disgusting foul blood of the orcs. The elf was a sadist – he had earlier untied his hands and had instead hobbled him loosely before ordering him to start to make a pile of the orc bodies. Saveric had refused adamantly to even so much as lift a finger until the elf had pressed the cold, hard steel of his dagger against his skull – right behind his ear.

So all afternoon long he dragged the hideous, foul smelling bodies into a pile and fought back the bile that rose in his throat due to the unbearable stench. All the while the elf had done nothing but scan the scene of the massacre and the surrounding area with an arrow loosely knocked in its bow. From time to time the elf would look at him to ensure he was still working.

Such hard work it had been too, he mused sourly, it was really bloody hard dragging a body when your feet where hobbled. Not only that he had a head wound that throbbed and he had already spent the entire morning digging a suitable grave for Samer before dragging him into it. It was a while off from here – far enough away from where he had been so brutally murdered – and it had been hard work getting him there. Saveric had already been tired when he met the elf. He was beyond exhausted now. He just wanted to be freed so he could be alone with his grief – so that he could go and try to get over the gaping hole in his life now that his little brother Samer was gone. Cursed elves.

He looked up and around for the dark haired being that had him tied up – he wanted to get the black scum off his hands now. He also wanted to get the hell away from here before it got dark and those horrible beasts – the orcs – came out to play again.

"Elf – I've helped you all you wanted, now let me go."

The elf was on its knees someway away from the scene of the battle peering down very closely at something or other. It ignored Saveric completely and continued to examine the ground here and there. He would look up from time to time to give their surrounds a quick scan – presumably for danger – before continuing to examine the dirt.

At long last the elf finally stood up and stalked over to him.

"Seeing that there are no bodies of men here or even much mannish blood, added to the way I found you skulking round in the bushes earlier I would say the rest of your number where captured – correct?"

Saveric groaned aloud before answering, "I don't know I guess the others may have been. I fought with your elf friend then when he struck me I decided to play dead."

Saveric pointed to his head wound before he continued, "I had my eyes closed – you know playing dead? So I've no idea where your friend went after that. I don't know about any of the others either. Their bodies aren't here and I didn't see 'em when I decided it was safe to leave."

The elf eyed him up and down but said no more before it turned its back on him once more and resumed its searching.

Saveric could handle no more of waiting around with this deranged elf – he could make a run for it of course but it would be difficult to get very far with his hands so well tied. The elf would cut him down in an instant. No - he'd try and appeal to the elf one more time.

"Elf – let me loose. I been more than fair to you. You didn't even help me with the bodies. Now I've told you everything and shown you everything. Let. Me. Go!"

Saveric realised too late just how harshly his words had come out – but he could hardly be blamed for getting frustrated with the elf. He stepped back a little in fear however when the elf finally turned to face him, murder clear in its eyes.

**~o~**

" _You've_ been more than fair to _me_?!" Faervel snapped as he stalked angrily towards the man.

Was the _adan_ serious? He'd helped to capture Legolas and put their entire troop through this hellish ordeal and yet he thought _he'd_ been fair? Faervel saw red as he continued to stalk towards the man who was slinking away from him backwards. Of course as the man wasn't looking where he was going he fell over tripping up on one of the many rocks that scattered these parts. Faervel watched with disgust as the _adan_ tried in vain to get back up without aid of his arms. Faervel turned his back - the man was pathetic.

Yet it seemed he was still defiant as he snarled back at Faervel, "Yes I _have_ been fair. Helping you find your stupid blonde friend. Who's a murderer by the way. He -"

"Silence," Faervel whipped round to glare at the man who had managed to sit up, "Do not speak of him. You don't know him. You have no right to -"

"I have every right elf! He murdered my brother! And I don't know why you still care about that feral blonde elf – he's dead. The orcs took him and -"

A soft thud abruptly ended the man's sentence as his body hit the ground. Faervel grit his teeth in annoyance before he walked up to the _adan_ and pulled his dagger free from his neck, before using it to slit his throat and free the man from his wretched existence. He sighed then as he wiped his blade clean on the man's clothes. He always felt a prick of guilt whenever he ended a life – no matter how worthless or evil. He gazed down at the man's dead body for a moment more before hauling him over to where the orcs had been piled and dumping him on top. Let that which was evil burn together, he distractedly mused. He looked at the man's bloodied face again – Faervel wasn't even sure if his initial intentions had been to kill the man or secure him to face justice later.

He just hadn't been able to bear hearing the man's ravings against Legolas. To liken his kind hearted friend to a murderer – that had been too much for Faervel. Legolas was no murderer – despite the darkness they fought against every day and the countless evil minions whose lives he had ended Faervel knew that Legolas too felt guilt with each kill. He was no cold blooded murdering monster. He was his friend, one of the very best and despite all that Legolas had been through he still had the same joyous and mischievous sparkle in his eyes as when Faervel had first met him as a cheeky little elfling _yén_ _i_ ago.

**~o~**

_Faervel stopped and clutched at his head which had just been hit by something quite firm from above. Faervel watched as the something came to a stop a few feet away from him. Hmm – an apple. Curious the dark haired elfling looked up into the tree he was under wondering where it could have come from. He started as he saw a blonde elfling perched in the branches above him._

" _Sorry," the elfling smiled at him showing off a gap in his otherwise perfect teeth. "I didn't mean to hit you. It just slipped."_

_Faervel smiled at how the other lisped his words and bent to retrieve the fallen apple before holding it upwards, "Its ok - here you can have it back."_

" _I can't reach you'll have to come up – and be quick about it too," the little elf took a furtive look around, "Hurry or you'll give away my hiding place."_

_Faervel scrambled up the tree which was a bit more difficult than usual with an apple clutched in his small, chubby hand. He panted as he made it up into the branch where the other elfling sat._

" _So who are you hiding from?" Faervel questioned as he handed over the apple._

_The blonde elfling took it with a smile and gave it a quick shine on his shirt before he leaned in conspiratorially "I'm hiding from my new nanny – I don't like her."_

_The elfling fished around in a small bag at his side, "Here you can have this one. It's not bruised."_

_Faervel took the apple with a quick_ le hannon _and bit into it with relish. "My name's Faervel by the way," he mumbled round a mouthful of juicy apple._

_Bright blue eyes alight with joy and mischief sparkled at him then, "My name's Legolas."_

**~o~**

Faervel gave a small wistful smile at the memory – he and Legolas had gotten into awful trouble in the end after having stayed out so late that the King himself had come to look for them. The punishment he'd been given had been no deterrent against him becoming fast friends with Legolas and they had been inseparable ever since. Faervel shook the fond memories off and returned to harsh reality – he was till to find Legolas.

Satisfied that the clearing was as clean as it was going to get Faervel lit the make-shift pyre. He gave the area one quick look over again. He hadn't really seen anything that pointed to where Legolas had gone. There was no sign of him here now, although Faervel could tell he had been there at some point judging by the clean slit throats he'd spied on a number of orcs. The cuts were clean and precise – exactly like they'd been taught during warrior training – Legolas had been there in the heat of the battle.

Where are you now Las? Faervel gazed up at the mountains that were beginning to look more ominous as the afternoon waned on. He hated to admit it but it looked very likely that Legolas had yet again been captured. One injured elf against all those orcs – Faervel looked back at the fairly large pyre; it didn't look promising at all. He looked up at the mountains again. It would be folly to go up into them on his own – he really ought to either go back and find the search parties or wait for them to catch him up.

Yet he was going to do neither. He knew from bitter experience what it was to be at the non-existent mercy of the _glamhoth._ He would not leave Legolas to that fate for even a minute more than was necessary. Mind made up he ripped a long strip from his white undershirt before he neatly cut the very tip of his left index finger. With the resulting blood he hastily sketched a quick message: _The Mountains, Faervel_. Pleased with the bloody message which had not smeared as much as he'd feared he took out two arrows and wrapped the strip around one. Faervel then stuck the two arrows firmly into the ground so that they made a cross directly in front the blazing pyre. They were far away enough not to catch fire themselves but close enough so that any wood elves that came this way would not miss the calling card. It was typically used by the elves of the Wood after victorious battles as a warning to the Evil One's minions that they would bring bloody death to all dark creatures. It was usually done with spears but this would have to do – he'd left his spears with Rafn. Hopefully the search party would see it and recognise it for the symbol it was and come closer to investigate.

That done he gripped his twin daggers and set off at a brisk jog toward the looming shadows of the Misty Mountains. He wanted to be in the Mountains and hopefully find shelter before darkness fell. He desperately missed the comforting canopy of the Wood and he really did not want to be out here on the plains, exposed in the open when it got dark. He stretched his senses as far as they would go, his body completely on high alert.

Please _Valar_ guide my steps, he prayed fervently, let me find Las alive.

**~o~**

Legolas jerked awake and looked around him frantically as his groggy mind tried and failed to identify where he currently was. Panic began to rise within him until recent events came rushing back to him along with the full force of his pain. Yes, he was in a cave – resting (hiding) away from the orcs. He blinked a couple times in an attempt to clear the fog from his eyes and mind. The cave came into clearer view and Legolas scanned it quickly; dagger clutched tightly in his good arm and was relieved to find that he was still its only occupant.

Satisfied in his safety for the moment he paused to take stock of his many hurts and ease those that he could. Of course his shoulder hurt the worse – a sharp, stabbing pain that throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He shifted minutely in an attempt to ease the pain that was nearly breath taking. Stupid, cursed shoulder, he muttered aloud. First the spider bite, then he'd managed to fall on it and of course luck had it so that he'd been shot in the same shoulder as well. Gingerly he flexed the fingers of his left arm and was happy to see them wiggle around even if the action did cause pain to shoot up through his arm. The fact he could move them meant there was no significant nerve damage – good. Bracing himself he stretched out both arms in front of him. Again he was happy that he had movement in his left arm but the pain was starting to make him feel faint. He'd better hurry and do what he could.

With much fumbling Legolas managed to cut more long strips from his from his rapidly shrinking undershirt. These he wrapped gently round his cut and split palms as he prayed the many small cuts and nicks were not infected. He would have loved to have been able to wash his hands in cool, soothing water but alas for him – the men had frisked him well. He had none of his pouches, water skins or other gear he usually travelled with – there would be no pain relief unfortunately.

It took him far longer than he would have liked to get his palms properly bandaged and he was left shuddering from the effort. The cut on his lower left arm had bled through the bandage he'd placed on it the previous night but he had no more strips and he was unable to reach the upper half of his shirt without considerable pain. The cut would have to wait until he could get proper medical help – at least it was no longer bleeding. All that was left now was the troublesome bolt in his shoulder. It was stopping the bleeding yet at the same time leaving it in place for so long could lead to infection. Legolas was certain now that the bolt was not poisoned – he would have felt the effects by now or most likely would have woken up somewhere very different – namely _Mandos'_ Halls. The biggest problem presented by the bolt in his shoulder was the cumbersome shaft sticking out of it. It was long and Legolas could just about see the greasy black feathers used as fletching when he turned his neck.

Legolas knew he would not be able to withstand the pain and pull the bolt out of his shoulder himself with one hand. Besides that would do more harm than good – he could very easily damage his shoulder irreparably as well as loose precious amounts of blood. No the best he could hope to do was to snap off the shaft and leave the arrow head in place. That way the shaft would no longer be a painful hindrance and the arrowhead would keep him from bleeding out too much.

Decision made Legolas began to ponder how exactly he was going to snap off the sturdy cross bolt shaft – it was fairly thick after all. He would not be able to snap if off with his right hand; that much was certain. He considered his quandary for a few minutes more before he got an idea. Legolas stood up to look around his cave for what he needed and was dismayed to find that he swayed as he stood. His legs felt shaky and weak and he had to take a moment to steady himself before he was able to move off and begin his search.

He did not have far to look – he promptly found a crack in the cave wall that was big enough for his need. Legolas placed the handle of his dagger in his mouth and held it between his teeth; this would hurt and he could not afford to cry out and be heard. With a deep breath to brace himself Legolas jammed the shaft into the crevice as far as it would go and gave a quick twist to the left. With a loud crack the shaft snapped in two and Legolas sank to his knees; his right hand gripped just below his shoulder tightly and his teeth were firmly clamped around the hilt of his knife. Still that did not stop the small whimpers that left him as Legolas tried his best to breath and master the pain that felt as though his arm had been torn off. His plan had worked – his body weight had been enough to break the shaft once it was trapped within the crack but _Valar_ how it hurt.

He trembled violently and his head touched the cool cave floor as bowed low in his pain. _Ai Elbereth_ , he choked, _anno dulu enni._

It was only the feel of warm blood trickling down his back and arm that brought him out of his pain filled stupor. Legolas gently eased himself back upright so that he was kneeling. Then after taking another deep breath to steel himself he reached behind to see how much of the shaft he'd managed to snap off. He winced at the jolt of pain that shot through his arm when he touched the bolt but was very pleased that only a small stump of about two inches remained. That was much better – he'd be able to manoeuvre himself a bit more easily without worrying over the long shaft sticking out of his back. He turned round and eyed it dispassionately where it was wedged in the crack in the cave wall before he turned his attention back to the wound in his shoulder.

It was bleeding quite a lot more than it had been and Legolas was worried about the steady stream of blood running down his back and arm. He watched morbidly fascinated as it began to drip from his fingertips and onto the cave floor before he huffed in an aggrieved way. He'd clearly dislodged or loosened the arrow tip when he broke off the shaft. He was loathe to push it back in though – that would most likely worsen the bleeding and further damage his shoulder.

Nay, he would have to try and bandage it with what remained of his undershirt.

It took a great amount of fumbling and a nearly mind numbing amount of pain for Legolas to wriggle out of his tunic and then his undershirt. At least the _edain_ had done him a favour in stripping him of his light armour – that would have been hell to remove in his current state.

His next battle to bind the wound practically one handed took a huge amount of effort and struggle but finally he was done. Rather than bother tearing what remained of the shirt into strips he'd used the whole thing as one big bandage and wound it round and round his arm, fastening it as best he could. It would have to do for he could certainly do no more. He was exhausted and cold not to mention he was starting to finally feel the first pangs of hunger – it seemed like an age had passed since he had last eaten. He warily pulled on his tunic with hands that were shaking so badly that he couldn't seem do up the buttons.

Legolas let out a frustrated sigh as he again attempted to do up at least one button – he was so damn cold.

That's when he heard it.

A high pitched chittering reached his ears and he blinked. Surely it could not already be dark could it? Buttons abandoned he gripped his dagger in his right hand and cautiously made his way to the lip of the cave and looked out. It was pitch dark outside. _Valar_ – had so much time passed whilst he'd been tending his wounds? Or had he just woken from his unintended slumber late in the day? Legolas cursed himself for not thinking to check the time of day as soon as he had gotten up. All he'd been able to focus on was his injuries and how much pain he was in. It was understandable but he still should have kept a better eye on his surroundings – especially as he was deep in enemy territory now.

The high pitched babbling reached him again and Legolas nearly groaned aloud. It was closer this time and steadily getting louder – heading his way.

Crazed cackling joined in with the chatter and Legolas tightened his grip on his dagger. He knew what kind of creature chattered in such an awful high pitched voice and laughed in such a maniacal manner.

Goblins. Goblins were headed his way.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adan – Man
> 
> Yéni – (Quenya) Elvish measure of time equalling 144 years. Plural of yén
> 
> Le Hannon – Thanks
> 
> Glamhoth – Din horde; yelling horde- Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Anno dulu enni – Help me
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Horses:
> 
> Rafn – Faervel's horse – (Sindarin) Winged


	22. Chapter 22

Deep in a cavern in the Mountains of Mirkwood the spider commander lay in an ever deepening pool of her own blood. Cursed elves and cursed stupid spider chief of the mountain clans. What sort of a chief had he been anyway, she griped sourly. That dithering coward had taken too long to come to a decision, had taken too long to decide to come to her aid and help her stage an attack against the elves. Nay they had spent a hideous amount of time debating - of all things - the merits of her plan. The damnable discussions had been so deep and involved that none knew it when the elves had entered their mountains.

They had found out only when it was too late for escape – when the elves had plunged right into their gathering and begun their merciless slaughter. None had been able to escape from the seemingly never ending waves of elven warriors.

She looked up as footsteps stopped near her – another cursed elf. She lashed out weakly with one of her few remaining legs yet it made no difference at all as the warrior plunged his spear deep into her chest. The last thing she heard was his triumphant cry of victory.

"Send word to the King – the last of the _yngyl_ has been killed."

**~o~**

Thranduil looked down upon the young _elleth_ one last time willing her to open her eyes before he left. Yet she remained stubbornly unconscious and she looked almost peaceful - were it not for the deathly pale whiteness of her skin and the still fading scratches that marred it. Thranduil gave her one last wistful look; Celegil had lost a lot of blood and had suffered horribly from the poison inflicted by the spiders she had clashed with. Not only that but she had yet to awaken from when she had collapsed in Aglardaer's arms after dutifully delivering her messages about the spiders plot and the ambush her troop had suffered.

"I must leave now," sighed Thranduil to the healer on duty, "you will notify me as soon as she awakens."

"Of course _Aran-nin_ – we are hoping she will wake on the morrow. She is doing much better, her _fëa_ has been getting stronger with every passing day."

"I am most pleased to hear that _Nestron_. _Hannon-le_ for all your hard work," Thranduil smiled kindly and nodded before he swept out of the room.

He had been coming to check on Celegil every night since she had arrived for she had none else to do so – Celegil's parents had both long ago perished in the line of duty. Not only that but as a member of Legolas' troop he had gotten to know her fairly well over the years. He felt a certain responsibility toward her; he wanted her to be alright. He wanted them all to be all right.

His thoughts had of course flickered back to his still missing son – the missives he'd received earlier in the evening had reported that no sign of Legolas had yet been discovered. Signs of the men had been found however – faint tracks that lead in two directions and the two troops had split and followed one each. It was why he had picked out another two troops and had them on standby to leave the following morning if he heard nothing more positive in his morning missives. He doubted he would however – the troops would not be able to properly follow the days old tracks at night – he also did expect them to take some rest. Nay he would send the other two troops of trackers to aid them.

He felt a little selfish at the fact he would have four troops of forty warriors out there looking for his son – he did not want to be seen to be abusing his power as King. Still, he needed as many eyes as possible out looking now while the tracks were still somewhat fresh – that way they'd have a better chance.

Thranduil turned a corner and nodded at his bodyguards before he entered his bedchamber and flung off his heavy outer robes. He was so very tired. Hopefully with the extra troop's help Legolas would be found sooner rather than later and he could stop this ceaseless worry.

He quickly shed the rest of his clothes before slipping into his already run bath. Thranduil stretched himself out fully in the huge, hand-carved marble bath tub determined to find some small modicum of peace and relax. That was easier said than done however as his mind kept coming up with more and more frightening scenarios about Legolas. He gave up on any hope of having a relaxing bath and set to washing his long ash blonde hair – the sooner he did that the sooner he could get out of here and find something productive to occupy his mind.

He was mid lather when two sharp raps sounded at his bath chamber door. Thranduil grit his teeth in annoyance – the fact this person was already in his private quarters meant it could only be either Arahaelon or Galion.

"Who is it?" he called out in an aggrieved tone.

"Galion."

Thranduil resumed washing his hair as he gave his butler the terse command to enter. He did not look up even as he heard the door open and shut along with Galion's soft footfall.

"I am sorry Thranduil, I do not mean to disturb you at such a late hour but I thought… well I thought that this may cheer you a little."

Thranduil sloshed the last pitcher of clean water over his head rinsing his hair completely and pulled it up into a loose knot before extending his hand for the message Galion held. He was completely unbothered by his being in the bath or by his nudity – both Arahaelon and Galion had seen him in far too many varying states of undress for him to be bashful any longer.

He held the parchment by one corner and did his best not to drip onto it as he read.

The tiniest of smiles curved Thranduil's lip, "Well this is good news indeed. I am glad to finally have some. I am pleased you decided to bring it now."

Galion nodded a larger, contented smile on his own lips, "I had hoped the news would cheer you even if a little. Perhaps you will be able to find some sleep tonight?"

Thranduil handed the message back over to Galion and gave him a sceptical look, "It is good news indeed but whether sleep will come to me this night I don't know."

Thranduil let himself sink back down into the bathwater up to his chin, "Still at least this is one problem dealt with. Get Bôr to write back commending the work of the troops. Instruct them to return home keeping an eye out for Captain Sanya's party escorting the injured amongst Legolas' troop. They may very well cross paths."

"Of course, I shall do so now. Have a good night Thranduil."

"I shall try Galion _– Hodo vae_."

The door shut softly behind Galion and Thranduil found himself alone once more with his thoughts.

The Mountains of Mirkwood were now cleared of the _yngyl_ filth; his troops had done exactly as he had asked of them. It was good to finally receive a missive that contained positive news, he would share it with Celegil tomorrow – hopefully she would be conscious by then. It would be nice to finally share something uplifting. It seemed to him that all the news he had shared with others recently had been terrible.

He thought back to two recent moments that stood out in particular – informing Thanniel of Legolas' capture and telling the Lady Ídhes of Faervel going off after him on his own. Neither had been particularly pleasant conversations. Thanniel doted on Legolas and was for all intents and purposes his surrogate mother having been first his nursemaid then nanny before continuing in his life as a mentor. Long years after her official job was over she still kept an eye on Legolas and he adored her, treating her as any good son would treat their _Naneth_. The two were very close and Thanniel had been horrified at hearing of his plight. Lady Ídhes taken the news of Faervel in very calm manner – she knew what her son had pledged his life to do. Still there had been a look of abject terror in her eyes that she couldn't quite hide.

Thranduil gingerly stepped from his now lukewarm bath. Nay, he'd be much happier sharing tonight's news with not only Celegil but the rest of the realm. That their _maethyr_ were victorious and were on their way home safe and sound. He could only hope that the same would apply to Legolas and Faervel once they were found.

**~o~**

Legolas slipped into the darkest corner of the cave where he had been resting previously. If he was lucky the goblins would carry right on past him; however as he hadn't had very much luck since this whole ordeal began he got a better grip on his knife and shifted into a fighting stance.

The chattering continued to get louder and closer and Legolas strained to see if he could decipher what was being said, but their garbled speech just proved to be annoying to his delicate ears. He couldn't make out a single word.

Suddenly all was silence and Legolas unconsciously held his breath. They were very close – he could sense them just outside the cave. He couldn't tell how many there were though – his senses were screaming at him in agony and were not proving as helpful as they usually were. What he really wanted to know was why they had stopped. Had they sensed him or smelt him?

The sound of loud sniffing brought him his answer. No doubt they had caught scent of his blood which Legolas noted idly was dotted here and there on the cave floor. There was no way they would not come now and investigate – he would have to fight. He gathered what remained of his strength and flattened himself against the wall – he would try and use the element of surprise.

An ugly, balding head stuck itself into the cave before the rest of the short, stooped body followed with dragging feet. Wasting no time Legolas was swift as he rushed the goblin from the side, grabbed it in a firm headlock before a short sharp twist of its head broke its neck and ended its life. Legolas regretted his actions almost immediately as his entire left arm screamed at him in agony. He let the limp body drop to the cave floor with a thud before he spun somewhat dizzily toward the cave entrance to face another two of the creatures who were now shrieking in an enraged manner.

They charged at him with horrible daggers that looked as though they were made of bone. Legolas parried one blow and ducked the other moving further back into the cave against his will. They had him firmly blocked in now and he knew he was at a severe disadvantage being able to properly fight with only one arm. He jumped back again out of the way of one of the wicked bone daggers before he lashed out in a long wide arc with his own. He was pleased to feel it snag on skin and scrap against bone before he pulled it back and held it in a defensive position. Purplish blood glinted on the blade and the goblin he had caught with his blade screamed again before hurling itself at Legolas dagger raised and murder clear in its ugly, yellow eyes. Legolas only just managed to stop the goblin's blade from sinking into his neck with a last ditch block before he kicked the beast away from him and pulled up into another defensive position.

He struggled to find an opportunity for attack as the other goblin came at him whilst its comrade recovered from Legolas' kick. This particular goblin seemed especially skilled at knife play and Legolas found himself pulling more and more elaborate blocks and parries in order to keep the jagged bone blade away from him. He was also being forced further and further back into the cave. The other goblin was now back on its feet and eager to join the fight lunged for Legolas' injured and vulnerable left side. Legolas swung around wildly to block its blade from piercing his left side and was rewarded with the burning sting of blade meeting flesh as the first goblin took its chance whilst he was distracted and plunged its blade into his upper right thigh. Legolas was unable to stop his pained scream ringing out into the night. He was determined to remain focused on his survival however, and as the goblin that had stabbed him pulled back its dagger Legolas spotted a small gap between the two beasts. He wasted no time, steeled himself and took a pained leap across from the back of the cave, shoved past the goblins and ran out into the cold night.

Well he tried to run – but it was more of a fast stagger.

His breath was coming in quick, painful gasps and his head was beginning to really thump unpleasantly even as he fought back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. His right arm was aching uncomfortably from all the strain he had placed solely on it when fighting and of course he now had a new wound to deal with. Legolas glanced down at his thigh. It was bleeding freely but thankfully it seemed only the tip of the jagged blade had made its way into his leg which meant less damage than he had initially feared. He was thankful for that small mercy at least and covered the small gash with his hand as he hobbled off as fast as he could down the path. At least he had a head start on the goblins who hadn't expected him to brush them aside and flee from the cave. He really was in no fit state to fight so had decided that flight might be the better course of action.

He quickened his pace as much as he could as he began to stumble down the steep mountain path. At last he rounded a corner and paused; both to catch his breath as well as to try and stop the bleeding from his newly acquired injury. He had just learned a rather painful lesson on why it was a bad idea to have elvish blood or the smell of it on him. He was lucky to have only met with those goblins for even in his weakened state he could still take them down if necessary. However if the smell of his blood were to bring about something bigger and more powerful such as an orc or the _Valar_ forbid a warg then Legolas knew it was very likely he would die.

Cursing his circumstances Legolas cut off his belt and used it to make a hasty tourniquet around the top of his thigh. Finally it was done tightly enough to halt the bleeding and Legolas was forced to continue to use his bad arm in order to tie a small strip of bandage torn from his tunic around his thigh. His heart was racing as he could hear the enraged screeches of the goblins getting closer to him. Standing shakily Legolas couldn't stop the wry grin that appeared on his face as he looked down at himself as he continued down the path at a brisk hobble. At this rate he'd soon be naked and covered in bandages made from his clothing. _Eru_ above, Thranduil would have a fit if he could see him now.

Thoughts of his _Adar_ sobered him and Legolas strengthened his resolve and fought back his ever increasing pain. He _would_ make it back to his _Adar;_ he would not die here in these cursed mountains and leave Thranduil to go mad with torturous wonderings of what had become of him. That would break Thranduil and besides Legolas himself did notwant to die here cold, hungry and alone. He certainly had no intentions of dying at the hands of goblins of all creatures – the shame would be too great.

He continued to hobble, trip and stagger his way down the trail eyes darting about for any possible place he might hide. Spotting a cave down a smaller off-shooting path from the one he was on Legolas made for it. Maybe, just maybe the goblins would continue on straight past and miss him completely. With a quick prayer to _Elbereth_ that he was not about to plunge further into danger Legolas entered the dank cave. It smelled clean and a quick look round showed it to be mercifully empty. His relief was short lived however as much to his horror the incensed shouting of his goblin assailants sounded just outside the mouth of the cave.

Damn it, Legolas cursed the two, he was blocked in again. He'd been so hoping that the creatures would have carried on down the main path. Obviously they had been able to sniff him out thanks to his new and still bleeding injury.

Legolas bent into a defensive stance as the two rushed in toward him. Again he was on the back foot as he could only parry and dodge the blows the goblins were throwing at him. He was careful to keep his injured left side out of range and he began to shuffle toward the back of the cave – hopefully he'd be able to shoulder the goblins aside like before and make another run for it. The goblins were wise to him this time though, and followed his every move closely making sure they left no real gaps between them that Legolas could brush though without getting seriously hurt.

Frustrated by this Legolas lashed out wildly trying his hardest to get the beasts to move back and break their tight formation – anything so that he could have a chance to break free. It was hard however to make any meaningful attack on two beings with only one knife and one arm at his disposal and the goblins blocked all his attacks easily before launching their own. Legolas hissed and drew back into his previous defensive position as one of their blades nicked his upper arm. The goblins were quick to react and moved as one to press him further into the narrow back of the cave, evil eyes glinting and wicked knives darting. Legolas could see the killing intent clear in their eyes as they got closer before one suddenly lunged at him dagger raised and poised for his neck.

Legolas instinctively stepped back, knife raised to block and was shocked to find himself suddenly falling through the air.

Back in the cave both goblins looked at each other and nodded glee clear on their faces. It was perfect and their leader would be pleased with the surprise that would be landing in his lap any second now.

**~o~**

Faervel refused to cringe as purple blood liberally splattered across his face as he brutally dispatched yet another of the accursed goblins. Honestly – there couldn't be that many more surely? He stabbed another in the stomach before gutting it and he chanced a quick look around the rather large cavern he was currently in. There were only another two goblins who were looking rather frightened of the dark haired blur of elven fury that had stumbled upon their lair. Thanking the _Valar_ that there were only two more he had to get rid of Faervel threw his dagger cleanly into the throat of one before he charged at the other. It put up a bit of a fight but was ultimately no match for an angry and impatient Faervel. He did not have time for this – he'd only decided to check out this cave on a whim – yet now here he was stuck fighting off these annoying creatures.

He feinted to one side then lunged to the other and caught the goblin firmly between its upper ribs with his dagger. He freed his blade and neatly slit the throat of the creature before he dropped it to the ground. He stooped down over the body of the other dead goblin to retrieve his knife before he cleaned both blades and returned them to their sheaths.

He looked round the cave now carefully, noting that it seemed to still stretch backwards further into darkness. The air emanating from that direction smelt foul and Faervel decided that he would not risk going any further in. He turned his back and was about to leave when a loud scream rent the air.

Faervel's heart raced in his chest as he did an about turn and ran deeper into the cavern in the direction of the scream. It was not a goblin scream or even an orc-ish one. Nay – unless his ears had chosen to deceive him he was certain the scream had sounded distinctly elvish.

**~o~**

Legolas had no hope of being able to stop the scream that was torn from his throat as he crashed down into a wooden trap of some sort. He lay where he'd landed dazed and in a breath-taking amount of pain. He could feet that his right leg was bent under him; a sharp, throbbing pain emanating from his ankle yet he made no move to shift himself into a more comfortable position. He very much doubted that he could. His dazed thoughts were interrupted by gleeful yelling to his left.

"Yes, yes, look what has fallen into our trap," a small, hunched back goblin was practically dancing around the cage with glee. "I will tell Master - fun, fun, fun we'll have tonight."

Legolas watched with a sinking heart as the goblin rushed off into the gloom of what seemed to be a rather large cavern before he closed his eyes. He really didn't want to give up, he really didn't want to die here and like this. He opened his eyes again and looked at the contraption that currently held him captive – it was sealed tight. At full strength he may have had a chance at somehow escaping this trap but now he couldn't even sit up. Soon there would be _Eru_ only knew how many more goblins rushing in here and he would have absolutely no chance against them all. He realised now why the two goblins he'd been fighting mere moments ago had been keen to push him towards the back of the cave. It was a trap all along and no doubt they too would soon be rushing down here to join in the 'fun'.

**~o~**

Faervel crashed into a small, hunched back goblin who had been going at full pelt toward the direction he had just come from. The goblin picked itself up off the floor before its eyes widened in surprise as it realised it had crashed into an elf. That was all it had time to do before Faervel brought its life to a swift end with a quick flash of his daggers and continued running toward the sound that had sparked off equal parts hope and dread in his heart.

**~o~**

Legolas lay unmoving with his eyes still closed, he'd hit his head rather hard and he could already feel the beginnings of an awful headache. He would attempt to sit up soon he just really needed to make sure his head wouldn't roll clean off his shoulders once he tried.

Yet it seemed he was out of time as the sound of running feet came to him – unnaturally loud and echoing in the large cavernous space. Against his will Legolas' heart leapt into his throat – he was loathe to admit it but he was scared. The feet got closer and closer and Legolas closed his eyes tighter then slipped his good arm down with the intention of grabbing the hilt of his dagger; he would not die alone – he wanted to try and take a few goblins with him as well. To his horror though his dagger wasn't in its sheath – he'd lost it in his fall. Legolas cursed and was about to reach over for his left side dagger when suddenly the running stopped and harsh breathing could be heard before the feet walked up to him.

Legolas froze as the breathing now sounded as though it were directly above him and he braced himself to face his end all while keeping his eyes firmly shut. He did not want the last thing he ever saw on Arda to be the ugly leering face of a goblin.

Legolas was expecting to be mocked, laughed at, strung up, struck or stabbed – he was fully prepared for any of those to happen.

He was completely unprepared for a warm, smooth hand to gently cup the side of his face.

And he very nearly passed out from sheer shock when a familiar voice – one he had thought to never hear again – called out in wonderment.

"Las?"

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yngyl – (Plural of Ungol) Spiders
> 
> Elleth - Female elf
> 
> Aran-nin – My King
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Nestron – Healer (male)
> 
> Hannon Le – Thank you
> 
> Hodo Vae – Rest Well
> 
> Naneth - Mother
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Adar – Father


	23. Chapter 23

"Las?" Faervel gasped in surprise, "Las is it truly you?"

Stunned but oh so familiar blue eyes flew open to look at him and Faervel nearly leapt for joy. He'd found his friend – against all the odds he'd somehow managed to stumble upon Legolas. Faervel wanted to envelop him in a huge bear hug but looking down at his friend he came to the swift conclusion that that would not be the best idea.

Legolas was in an appalling state.

He was ghostly pale with dark circles under his eyes that testified to a recent, prolonged lack of sleep. Rather disturbingly there were faint streaks of dried blood – red blood – that trailed down Legolas' chin. The rest of his face looked quite pinched and the usually proud, high cheekbones that declared him to be a Sindar of noble birth were now worryingly hollow.

The rest of him looked no better Faervel noticed with mounting concern; Legolas seemed to be half naked – it seemed his entire undershirt had been turned into bandages - and his tunic was torn, ragged, unbuttoned and thrown on in a haphazard manner. Faervel jerked out of his horrified musings as he saw a shiver run through Legolas' body and he was reminded of where they were.

"Ah Las forgive me," he apologised as he set to work on the trap with his daggers. Faervel carefully nicked and cut through all the bindings and sinew that held together the wooden structure and in a matter of two or three minutes the entire left half of the structure collapsed onto one side. He carefully crawled in and came to kneel beside the Prince.

Legolas looked even worse in close proximity. On the vast amount of skin Faervel was able to see there were a variety of cuts, scrapes and bruises and he noticed that Legolas' right leg was bent underneath him rather unnaturally. That couldn't be good or comfortable.

"We need to leave this place Las, you have many injuries and I am loathe to treat them here," Faervel reached over and touched his friend's leg. "This does not look good – let me help you get your leg from underneath you and check the damage."

A tired, barely there nod was all he got from a Legolas who seemed to be in shock. Faervel hands both instantly flew to Legolas' head gently checking for any cuts and abrasions – his friend may well be suffering from a severe concussion.

He was relieved to find nothing more sinister than a pretty large bump on the back of the golden head. Still that did not mean Legolas did not have a concussion; he would still need to check Legolas' eyes when they were in better light where Faervel would be able to see if his pupils were functioning as they should. He returned his attention to the trapped leg and eased it from under Legolas with the utmost care. Unfortunately that did not stop Legolas from giving a sharp cry of pain once his leg had been straightened out.

"I'm sorry but it needed to be done Las – just hold still a while longer whilst I check for any damage," Faervel fretted as he ran experienced healer's hands over the limb.

"Yes _Nana_ ," came the pained if glib reply.

Faervel gave his friend a delighted smile – it seemed that the pain had jolted his friend out of his dazed reverie. He was sorry to have hurt Legolas but was pleased that his friend was now responsive.

" _Elbereth_ above Legolas – you cannot imagine how glad I am to see you," Faervel beamed. "Now do you think you can sit up if I help you? This is a goblin den of some sort and though I dispatched a fair few of them I do not want to risk there being any more lurking in here."

Faervel cradled his friends head and neck in the crook of one arm and braced Legolas' back with the other, "Have you been here long? I don't suppose you know how much further back this cave goes do you? I really don't want to run into any more of those creatures."

"Nay I've only just landed here myself."

Faervel threw his friend a puzzled looked before he carefully pulled him upwards and tried not to feel too much guilt over the pained groan that action drew from Legolas.

Instead he leaned his friend to rest against him and asked, "What do you mean landed here? I had assumed you were being held here. Twas your cry that brought me running after all."

"Nay I fell down through a goblin trap. My landing was the reason for my scream."

All was quiet for a moment as Faervel allowed Legolas to simply rest against him and recover from his fall.

After a moment Legolas suddenly pushed a little way away from Faervel and looked up to him with wide disbelieving eyes, shook his head and stared as though he could not quite understand what it was he saw.

Just as suddenly Legolas collapsed against him again and whispered, "I cannot believe that you are truly here – that you managed to find me."

Then he bowed his head and sobbed whilst he clung to Faervel as though he would vanish into smoke and disappear if he were to loosen his grip by even a fraction.

Faervel could only hold him as he wondered exactly what Legolas had suffered through since he had last seen him – for it was quite clear that his friend _had_ suffered.

**~o~**

Upon hearing his pet name Legolas' eyes had flown open. Certainly no goblin would be calling him that.

He was stunned when he found himself staring up at Faervel's awe-struck face. _Valar_ – he must have hit his head a lot harder than he thought for surely he was hallucinating? Yet this hallucination seemed so real; it was even managing to make that overly concerned face that Faervel often pulled. He watched as the apparition began to fiddle with the trap that currently held him prisoner. Was it an apparition? Yes it had to be. How on Arda would Faervel have found him otherwise? Nay it could not be real; he had hit his head hard and now his mind was conjuring up fanciful images in his last moments. The goblins would soon be here and Faervel – no - the apparition would disappear and then it would be end for him.

He could see his hallucination's lips moving and he gave a weak nod when it seemed as though the imaginary Faervel wanted a response from him. Gentle hands were there then tenderly checking his head and he winced when a particularly sore spot at the back of his head was touched. Legolas' mind whirled – that felt very real. Could it really be?

A sharp pain in his leg which was suddenly no longer underneath him broke through the fogginess in his mind and caused him to cry out in pain. He looked at Faervel then – really looked at him and realised that he was real, solid and present and not just a figment of his over hopeful imagination. Faervel was here, he was real and wasting no time in being his usual overly anxious self and mothering Legolas to death.

"I'm sorry but it needed to be done Las – just hold still a while longer whilst I check for any damage." Faervel was fussing over his leg which was now only giving off a dull throb as opposed to the piercing pain that had shot through him a moment ago.

"Yes _Nana_ ," his usual teasing reply to Faervel slipped past his lips easily and sheer happiness flooded through Legolas. Only a few moments ago he thought he had met his end - that he would never again be able have another moment like this.

Faervel pulled him into a sitting position against his chest and Legolas only just managed to keep himself from being sick as a vicious wave of nausea accompanied the movement. He focused on his breathing as he tried to get his stomach to settle again whilst he told Faervel about how he'd fallen straight into the goblin trap.

They sat still for a moment and thinking about the trap he was now free from brought Legolas sudden, perfect clarity. He pushed away from Faervel's chest and looked up at his friend. He had actually been rescued; he again had the familiar comfort of elven company after what felt like an age. The memories of everything he had gone through since he had last seen Faervel all suddenly came to him unbidden, the weight of them crushing and he collapsed against Faervel and sobbed in pure unadulterated joy and sheer relief.

It was over, it was finally over - all the torture was done with, the _edain_ were gone -they just needed to leave these awful, cold mountains and he'd finally be able to go back to the Wood. He be able to go home, to see his _Adar_ and Thanniel again – he could hardly wait.

But first thing was first, they needed to leave this cave – now. Legolas fought back any more sobs that threatened to break free and regulated his breathing as he begun to take stock of his injuries and how hurt his body felt. In truth he felt awful – he'd felt terrible before and the fall certainly hadn't aided matters but he was determined not to be a hindrance to Faervel. He was certain that he would be able to walk out from here under his own power. Only his ankle still gave a dull throb in time with his heartbeat – most likely a sprain – that was nothing.

He pushed off Faervel again with his good right arm and wiped away the lingering tears before he trained expectant eyes upon his friend, "Well I take it you didn't find anything too wrong with my leg _Nana_?"

Faervel frowned down at him, "It's sprained and you've got a tear in the muscle near your ankle. Be still whilst I bind it then you should be able to walk on it without too much discomfort."

Legolas leaned back on his good arm for support which allowed Faervel to move and tightly bind his leg with bandages from his pouch.

"There I'm finished – hopefully that will hold alright." Faervel slipped his arm round Legolas, "Come let's get out of this vile place and see what shelter we can find til the morn. Do not think yet that I have finished with you. There are a great deal more injuries I need to tend to but I would rather do so somewhere that does not reek of goblin."

Legolas grinned up at him happy despite Faervel's fussing which he knew would only get worse once his friend got the chance to examine him fully.

" _Hannon-le_ for wrapping my leg and I am more than ready to leave this place. _Menif hi_."

Faervel pulled them both up with gentle ease but Legolas' world gave a sudden sway; the cavern floor and roof momentarily exchanged places and he clutched tighter to Faervel.

"Are you ok Las? I can carry you if need be."

Legolas threw a scandalised look at him – Faervel obviously had no idea of his pain threshold – he had pushed through worse pain than this since those _edain_ had ambushed them. Nay he was only a tiny bit dizzy; which Legolas felt was completely acceptable given his rent fall and head bump.

"Do not even attempt it you great mother hen," Legolas took two test steps – blessed _Eru_ above, his entire leg ached from top to bottom. He _would_ need help to walk much to his great annoyance – the pain of putting his full weight on his injured leg was just a little bit too much to bear along with the nasty nauseous sensation that had again reared its ugly head.

"You may not carry me but I would be grateful if you allowed me to lean against you as we walk. My leg is a lot sorer than I expected."

Faervel gave a small scoff at that as he threw an arm around Legolas.

" _Elbereth_ above Las I never thought I would see the day when _you_ conceded to pain."

Legolas scowled at him which caused his dark haired friend to laugh.

Legolas groaned, "Come on _Naneth_ this place is foul let us go."

The two moved off in the direction Faervel had initially come from and Legolas fought the urge to gasp aloud as his body screamed in agony – he would never hear the end of it from Faervel otherwise and _that_ particular lecture would do nothing for his headache.

**~o~**

Aeglosson stretched his arms high up over his head as he and Thenin trotted into the palace courtyard behind Tauriel and Laich. The rest of their troop clattered into the suddenly crowded courtyard behind them and Aeglosson smiled as he nimbly hopped off Thenin's back.

It was good to be back, he mused as he led his black mare toward the stables eager to tend to her needs before he sought after his own pleasure. It felt wonderful to be back with the prospect of a full two weeks leave stretching out ahead of him. Better yet for the first time in a very long time the leave his troop was on would overlap with the leave Legolas' troop was on. That meant he and Tauriel would be able to finally have a long awaited catch up with Legolas and Faervel. They hadn't seen their friends for a good few months - duty and differing patrol schedules had conspired to keep them apart.

Whistling a little tune to himself he was soon planning a list of all the things he wanted to do whilst on leave as he worked on Thenin. The sounds of his troop working alongside him in the stables rang out loudly in the eerily quiet morning air. Aeglosson cast several surreptitious looks round the stables before canting a glance at Tauriel and raising a silver eyebrow.

She gave a small nod of her head, "Yes something has happened – it's too quiet and empty here. We will enquire at the palace once we finish."

Aeglosson gave her a quick nod of agreement and carried on with his cheerful whistling and grooming even as curiosity began to eat at him.

**~o~**

Aeglosson strolled into the palace, Tauriel at his side – eyes scanning the vast halls for the _ellon_ he sought. He was definitely curious now and a little bit worried as well at what might have happened here whilst they'd been patrolling on the Eastern border. For he knew something had happened – never had he seen the stables look quite so empty before and when he had accompanied Tauriel to give their report the barracks had also looked decidedly empty. Not only that but Crown Commander Aglardaer was nowhere to be found either – it was all very peculiar.

" _Hir-nin_ Arahaelon," he called out as he spotted his quarry.

The tall, silver haired _ellon_ spun round with a mild look of surprise that vanished nearly instantly.

"Ah _Hest_ Tauriel, _Hir_ Aeglosson - _mae govannen_ ," Lord Arahaelon smiled as he turned to face them fully.

Aeglosson and Tauriel both dropped to their knees in a low bow giving the King's Regent due respect, " _Mae govannen Hir-nin_."

Formalities over Aeglosson pounced with his questions, " _Daer-adar_ what has happened here? The stables are half empty and so too the barracks. Not only that Crown Commander Aglardaer is away from the palace on duty. He never does that anymore and -"

Aeglosson's rapid fire babbling was stopped in its tracks as his grandfather held up a hand.

" _Sîdh_ Aeglosson," the older _ellon_ motioned for them to follow him and it was all Aeglosson could do to keep his questions from bursting forth past his lips as he followed his _daer-adar_ to his study.

Once inside he turned pleading eyes upon his grandfather, once more impatient as Arahaelon poured wine for all of them before he gestured for them to sit.

" _Daer-adar_ do not keep us in suspense please."

Arahaelon huffed and turned a mock glare upon his grandson, "Will you never learn patience? You are an elf and patience is meant to be one of our strong points."

Tauriel laughed and Aeglosson glowered at her before turning to his grandfather as he began to speak.

"We are at war," Arahaelon got straight to the point, "a plot was uncovered that the _yngyl_ planned to march upon the stronghold and try to stage some sort of a coup. The King has sent a quarter of the troops out to the Mountains of Mirkwood to deal with the threat."

"A quarter of the troops?" Tauriel breathed in shock.

"Is that not a bit excessive just for _yngyl_?" questioned Aeglosson. Spiders were a common foe they faced every day, surely it did not require that much elf-power to tackle them.

His grandfather shook his head and spoke sternly, "Do you question your King's judgement?"

"N-nay _daer-adar,_ of course not but -"

"But nothing," his grandfather silenced him again, "the threat was great and far bigger than anything we may have expected of the _yngyl. Aran_ Thranduil was correct in sending so many of our troops – reports from Commander Aglardaer suggested that they have used the mountains as a stronghold this entire time. Another nest of evil in our land – one we knew nothing about. However the troops have it under control and have fully rid the Mountains of Mirkwood of their foul presence completely. I received word of their success just this morning from the King."

Aeglosson pondered the information; the Mountains of Mirkwood were religiously avoided by the troops and civilian _eledhrim_ alike. It was very possible that the spiders had noticed this and decided to hole up there. He suppressed a shiver for the mountains were in the heart of the Wood and close enough to a number of the outer elvish villages. It was good that the problem had been dealt with by the King now before the _yngyl_ had had time to do anything truly awful.

Mystery solved he knocked back the rest of his wine before standing, "Well I'm glad to hear that the battle has gone well for our troops. Before we leave _daer-adar_ I don't suppose you know where either Legolas or Faervel are do you? It's been a while since we've seen them – it will be nice to finally catch up."

Tauriel nodded her head in agreement as she too stood up gracefully.

"Be seated both of you. There is something I must tell you and better you hear it from me than some idle gossip."

Aeglosson sunk down into his seat again and wondered at his grandfather's sudden solemn demeanour – well he was _more_ solemn than usual – grim would actually be the correct word to describe his current expression.

"This plot of the spiders was discovered by Legolas' troop. The warrior Celegil – do you know her?"

Aeglosson nodded along with Tauriel. The four friends had come to know the members of each other's troops well.

"Yes well, she was the one who brought the news," his grandfather continued, "she came here alone, barely clinging to consciousness upon the back of Morchant."

Aeglosson felt his heart drop and his stomach flip flop in a very discomforting way. Celegil had come here alone and on the back of _Morchant_ no less? Morchant was a wild and flighty beast and not at all prone to suffering other elves besides Legolas. For Celegil to have been riding him? Something had to be very wrong.

"Celegil came here riding Morchant?" Tauriel asked, disbelief and awe clear in her voice. "Then where is Legolas? Morchant is an erratic beast – he lets non other besides Las ride him. What has happened?"

Her voice held a note of fear now and Aeglosson felt the same way too.

The feeling was justified as he listened in horror to his grandfather tell how Legolas and his troop were attacked by mercenary men and three of their party captured including Legolas himself. He was beyond relieved to hear that Hadril and Arasson had been found but upset to hear that thus far no sign of Legolas had been found.

"And there is still more," Arahaelon continued wearily, "Faervel has now also been reported missing too. Lady Ìdhes has been informed bu -"

"What? Faervel is missing too?" Aeglosson knew he'd been very rude in interrupting his grandfather but he could not believe what he was hearing. Two of his very closest friends were missing and at the mercy of mercenary _edain_?

"Yes Faervel is gone too but not at the hands of these Men – it iedgolas simply rested his weary body as he leanded up against .

s believed by the rest of the troop that he has gone after Legolas."

Aeglosson nodded as he stood once again – that made sense, Faervel was rather over protective of their blonde friend.

"I assume the King has sent search parties out?"

His _Daer-adar_ nodded, "He has but they have had no luck so far. The King plans to send more today to aid in the searching."

"We have to be on those search parties."

"Yes _Hir-nin_ please – Legolas and Faervel are our dear friends," Tauriel too was on her feet and ready for action.

" _Daer-adar_ you must get us an audience with the King please. Let us speak to him and get him to put us on one of the search parties."

"Nay– the King is, as you can well imagine, busy at present besides he has already picked the troops that are to leave later this morn. I have had no say in that matter. And what of yourselves? You have both literally just returned - are you not tired?"

"No!" Aeglosson was appalled his _Daer-adar_ had even asked the question. How could he sit here and rest in good conscience when Legolas was a captive and Faervel was _Eru_ only knew where.

"Nay my Lord – please we want to help find them." Tauriel looked just as appalled at the notion of staying behind to rest as he was.

Aeglosson was about to protest again – had had to get his _Daer-adar_ to see things from their perspective – when another voice spoke.

Deep, authoritative and unmistakeable. King Thranduil.

"I have been waiting for you _Hir-nin_ Arahaelon." All eyes in the room flew to the imposing figure of the King who stood in the doorway. "Our meeting should have started ten minutes ago and you are never late so I thought I would come and see what has delayed you."

Thranduil was smiling but Aeglosson noted that it did not reach his eyes before he, Tauriel and his grandfather all hurried to kneel and bow.

"Be at ease," the King motioned them to stand, "and _mae govannen_ to you both Tauriel and Aeglosson. I trust you are both well after your time on patrol?"

" _Mae govannen Aran-nin_ we are well thank you," Aeglosson spoke for them both, "however we have just heard about Legolas and Faervel, please _Aran-nin_ we –"

Aeglosson was silenced by Thranduil holding up a ringed hand and bit back an annoyed groan – he really wished people would stop cutting him off.

"You wish to join the search parties and help look for your friends correct?"

Aeglosson nodded as relief flooded through him – Thranduil understood their concern – he would let them go. His relief was rather short lived.

"I'm sorry but I have chosen the search parties already and they will be departing in around half an hour. I understand how you feel for you two are very close to my son and Faervel but I cannot allow you to go when you have only just arrived."

"But - "

"No. I am sorry Aeglosson but I cannot have over tired warriors going out on a search like this. We know next to nothing of these _edain_ that have attacked Legolas' troop save they are dangerous and not above laying hands on the _Eldar._ Right now you would be more hindrance than help. I really am sorry but I need those I send to be fresh, alert and prepared for whatever threat these Men may present."

Thranduil gave them another empty smile, "Please understand I do not doubt your abilities or willingness to help but you cannot go out on this search after having served a full three months on patrol returning only this morning. I cannot and will not allow it and that _is_ an order."

Aeglosson bowed his head along with Tauriel before silently leaving the room taking the dismissal for what it was.

He began to stalk along the corridors towards the noble living quarters in the palace – he was so frustrated right now. He wasn't that tired, the Eastern patrol was one of the easiest and most event free in the entire Kingdom. Why would they not let him help?

Tauriel's gentle hold on his arm stayed him and snapped him out of his whirling thoughts.

"Do not brood so – let us rest as they ask. Hopefully with so many of our troops out in the forest both Legolas and Faervel will be found soon and all this worry will be over and done with. Come on _Nínim_ let us have faith in our fellow _maethyr._ "

Aeglosson could not help but smile at the hated pet name.

"Fine," he conceded, "but I give them only two days then I will be heading out there myself."

"Five full days _Nínim_ – the forest is vast after all – we must be fair. Besides you've not had a run-in with the King or your _Daer-adar_ for nearly a decade. Surely you don't want to ruin that record now do you?"

Aeglosson winced as unwanted memories of long, tedious lectures and equally tedious punishments floated into his mind's eye – nay he definitely did _not_ want to go back to those days. He would do as he was told (for now) and hopefully all would be well and his two errant friends would be found.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled as he shook her hand off and resumed walking, "and less of the _Nínim_ please."

Tauriel only laughed and the sound of it calmed him somewhat – things would be fine. Collectively the four of them had gotten into many scrapes before and had always managed to come out the other end relatively unscathed. This time would be no different. Legolas and Faervel _would_ be all right.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nana / Naneth – Mamma (Mommy) / Mother
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Menif hi – Let's go now
> 
> Ellon – Male elf
> 
> Hir / Hir-nin – Lord / My Lord
> 
> Hest – Captain
> 
> Mae Govannen – Well met
> 
> Daer-Adar - Grandfather
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Yngyl – (Plural of Ungol) Spiders
> 
> Aran-nin/Aran - My King/King
> 
> Eledhrim – Elves
> 
> Eldar – Elves
> 
> Nínim - Snowdrop (Aeglosson means Snowthorn and thus hates this effeminate pet name)
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Horses:
> 
> Thenin – Aeglosson's horse – (Sindarin) Strong, Faithful
> 
> Laich – Tauriel's horse – (Sindarin) Leaping Flame
> 
> Morchant – Legolas' horse- (Sindarin) Shadow


	24. Chapter 24

Faervel watched the rhythmic rise and fall of Legolas' chest as his friend continued to sleep peacefully. He glanced over at the beams of sunshine that had slowly but steadily spilled across the cave floor and now reached their previously darkened little corner before looking back to Legolas. He really did not want to waken him just yet but he really couldn't fight off his healer's urges anymore. He wanted to clean and dress Legolas' wounds as well as get him to drink some more water, for he still had a raging fever which had so far refused to break.

Faervel looked over at the area that would serve as his healing ward – he had carefully laid out all his supplies well within reach as well as a flask of water collected from the steady dripping in the far end of their cave. He would ask Legolas to lay on his cloak which he had used to cover his friend once he had finally fallen asleep. Satisfied with his makeshift ward he gave Legolas the gentlest of shakes to rouse him.

Bleary, fever bright eyes peered up at him after the third shake and Faervel smiled.

" _Suilad_ Las. Do you feel any better?"

Legolas gave a great yawn before he gave a mumbled affirmative. Faervel grabbed his water skin whilst Legolas blinked rapidly in an attempt to fully awaken himself.

"Here I need you to drink this Las you have a terrible fever and I'm worried you may already be dehydrated."

"What have you put in it?" Legolas made no attempt to take the proffered skin but rather looked at it as one would a two headed snake.

Faervel gave an aggrieved sigh, "You promised you were going to let me treat you without a fuss. Besides I haven't put anything in the water, this is the only water skin I have and I will need to drink from it myself at some point. I have however got these herbs I would like you to take along with the water."

Faervel offered the water skin again as well as two of the five fever reducing leaves he had brought along with him. It was a high dose but this was a high fever and Faervel really needed it to start coming down.

His thoughts were interrupted by Legolas taking the water before he pointed at the leaves.

"What are they? Will they put me to sleep because I really don't want to sleep any more I just want t-"

" _Sîdh_ Las," Faervel halted Legolas' rambling mid flow, "They are only to reduce your fever which is really quite high. You know the ones - standard issue to the troops because there are no side effects such as drowsiness. Now please just swallow them."

"Fine," Legolas grudgingly took the leaves and swiftly swallowed one down with a mouthful of water before, "Isn't two a bit of a high dose?"

Faervel took a deep breath; evidently his friend was going to be his usual aggravating self when it came to being treated. With a quick prayer to _Elbereth_ for strength and patience he took his cloak from around Legolas and laid it down in the cleanest and driest area of the cave near his spread out medical supplies.

Gently he caught Legolas by the elbow before leading him toward the cloak, "You have a very high fever so you get a higher dose. Please will you take it and lie on your back on the cloak and please, please will you just let me have a look at you."

Legolas swallowed the other leaf without fuss and moved over until he was at the edge of the cloak then stopped abruptly. "I can't lie on my back."

Before Faervel could open his mouth Legolas held out his right hand in a placating gesture.

"Wait before you shout I'm not being pedantic Vel - I truly cannot lie on my back at present. I was shot in my shoulder."

"What? Which one?" Faervel demanded as his eyes quickly ran over Legolas' bedraggled form.

Legolas gave a meek gesture toward his left shoulder and Faervel's eyes narrowed at it. The shoulder was clumsily bound with what looked like his missing shirt. How had he failed to notice that? Irritated with himself for missing it he finished guiding Legolas to his spread out cloak and got him to sit upon it. He settled himself behind his friend then and managed to get both the tunic and the makeshift shirt bandage off without causing Legolas too much pain.

Faervel hissed at the sight that greeted him, "Las how long ago were you shot?"

"Umm I think two? Uh… yes two nights ago. I think."

"You think? Can you truly not remember? Did you hit you head so hard? I hadn't thought you had a concussion."

Faervel added that to his list of things to check. It was actually going to be the first thing he looked at but Legolas' alarming proclamation of being shot had driven the thought from his mind.

"Umm. No. It was definitely two nights ago I am sure – it was orcs. They shot me whilst I made my escape from the _egyl edain_."

Legolas' words reminded Faervel of the fact that he had no idea what had happened to his friend since the ambush. He closed his eyes and laid gentle hands over the wound before imparting a small surge of healing energy into it.

"D-don't do that Vel. You cannot afford to use up too much energy on me."

"Legolas I have no choice – this wound is badly infected and it is undoubtedly what has caused this raging fever of yours. Just please be still and let me tend to it. I promise you I will not push myself to the brink."

Legolas' shoulders both slumped then and he bowed his head toward his chest – as good a sign of acquiescence as Faervel was likely to get. He set to work immediately pouring a little more healing energy into Legolas before he held one his daggers in front of Legolas' face.

"Here Las, bite down on this I'm going to remove the arrow head and get this wound cleaned out and stitched up. It will hurt I'm sorry."

Legolas did as told and Faervel began the grim task. The arrowhead proved more difficult to remove than he had hoped for it was well and truly lodged deep within the muscle of Legolas' shoulder. Indeed it was nearly touching the bone of his shoulder blade. Finally with one last firm tug on the small wooden stump that remained from the shaft the arrow head came free with a sickening pop. Blood and pus poured forth and Faervel began to clean it all carefully and methodically. He knew Legolas was in pain but he could do nothing about that until the wound was cleaned and he could apply a paste made from the pain killing leaves he had. He'd decided to apply the analgesic herb directly to Legolas' wounds rather than make him slow and drowsy by giving them to him orally. Still he really felt for his friend who sat still and rigid with pain in front of him; his teeth clenched around the dagger handle.

Faervel continued his work on the shoulder and grabbed the flask of freezing water to wash it out with. "I'm really sorry again Las but the water I am about to use is quite cold but I dare not light a fire and alert anything unfriendly to our presence."

"Tis ok – it might numb the fire currently ablaze in my shoulder."

Faervel grit his teeth and pushed aside his feelings as Legolas' friend. He needed to be impartial now and just focus on being a healer and treat the injuries presented to him. He carried on cleaning the wound methodically and mechanically when a thought occurred to him.

"Las what happened to the rest of the arrow shaft?"

"I broke it off."

"Oh."

Faervel did not want to imagine how painful that would have been.

"Alsonotanarrow."

Faervel stopped his ministrations to lean over and cast a concerned look at his friend, "I did not understand one word of that Legolas. Come again?"

Legolas heaved another deep breath before he spoke through clenched teeth, "I said it was not an arrow. Twas a crossbow bolt."

"Ahh, I see."

Faervel moved back and examined the wound again – a crossbow bolt – that would explain why the muscle fibres and tissue looked so very torn. He leaned back on his haunches as he continued to study the ruined shoulder before him. The bolt had caught Legolas right where shoulder met arm; right in the joint. It would be a long and difficult recovery for Legolas. Ideally he would need surgery on this arm if it were to heal fully and properly.

Faervel began to thread one of his needles as he tried to decide where and how to begin to mend Legolas' shoulder. He wanted to do a good job of it so that it would hold until Legolas could get to the palace healers. He did not want to cripple his friend and if he wasn't careful he could end up doing exactly that.

"I'm going to start with your stitches now Las – it will take a good deal longer than I'd hoped it would. There is a great deal of damage and I need to do my best least you suffer permanent harm. How are you feeling so far? Can you deal with this still? Or should I make a sleeping draught?"

Legolas' reaction was immediate and enough to bring a fond smile to Faervel's lips.

"Nay, nay that is not necessary. I am holding up just fine – do as you must. I most certainly don't need to be put to sleep."

Faervel snickered, "Why do you so hate being put to sleep Las? Tis not that bad surely?"

Legolas wrenched away from him, "I shall sleep only of my own accord. I will not be forced to sleep again."

Faervel frowned at Legolas' sudden action and the words 'forced' and 'again'. What did Legolas mean? Faervel was only offering an option that could relieve some of his pain – he would not force Legolas to do anything. Why was he getting so agitated?

"I was only offering to help Las. I do not mean to force you into doing anything," he laid a gentle hand on Legolas exposed back. "Come let me do this and be still lest you aggravate the wound and cause it to bleed even more than it already is."

Slowly and with some unease Legolas sat back, bit down on the dagger handle and Faervel began. He would sew the muscles together first then the skin. This would only be basic; to tide them over until they were able to get back to the Wood. The intricacies of surgery would have to be left to those better versed in the healing arts than he. It was a shame Legolas would have to go through this twice but it was the only way to ensure no lasting damage was done. Slow and steady he did his best to keep his hand from shaking as he pieced together the torn apart muscles.

**~o~**

When the pristine white bandages stayed exactly that way – white without any ominous red patches making an appearance Faervel sat down with a relieved sigh. Legolas' shoulder had taken a good long while but at last he had stopped the bleeding and he was confident too that he had done a good job in repairing the muscle. He was also quite pleased that Legolas had held up quite well against the discomfort of the procedure once the pain relieving herbs had begun to take effect.

"All done Las," he couldn't help but beam as he studied his handiwork glad that it was over with. "Right, I need to check the rest of you over now. Please tell me you aren't hiding any more serious wounds?"

He moved so that he was now sat cross legged in front of Legolas and was treated to a full on Royal glower by his friend.

"Must you mother me so? I mean I know I am a little bit injured at the moment but you needn't smother me to death."

"A little bit injured? Las have you had a good look at yourself recently?" Faervel shook his head, "You are just the worst patient ever. Now let us get this shirt on and I'll see if I can get you to look like a Prince again."

"Don't you start now, " Legolas whined as he grudgingly let Faervel help him into a spare clean shirt he'd had the foresight to bring along. "You sound just like _Adar_ when he gets going on one of his How-a-Prince-should-Look-and-Behave speeches. I am simply glad he cannot see me now. _Valar_ I dread to think what he would say."

Faervel swallowed as he too dreaded to think of what King Thranduil would say if he saw his son in this state. He'd probably ask why Faervel had failed so dismally at being a Royal Bodyguard. He shook his head – he still could not believe he had dropped Legolas straight into the hands of the enemy. The exact opposite of what he was sworn to do; the very memory was enough to make him cringe.

"Are you ok Vel?"

"Hmm? Oh…ah…yes I'm fine Las do not worry about me."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at him, "Really? Then why did you just grimace?"

Guilt washed through him as he looked at Legolas' earnest but bruised and blooded face. "Nothing Las – truly I am well. Let's finish up here shall we? I'm sure you must be weary of my fussing."

Legolas said nothing and simply pinned him with a level stare that Faervel did his best to ignore as he treated the rest of Legolas' injuries. A thorough check of his head wound was in order and he ensured there was no concussion. Cuts on his arms were bandaged, more stitches were placed into his right thigh, his cut and split palms were treated to gentle salve along with the scratches and bruises scattered on his face. Faervel also noted how a section of Legolas' hair had been cut as he rearranged it once more into its customary braids and the rage and guilt within him steadily built up.

It wasn't until Faervel finally got Legolas to wash his face with the cold mountain water that he saw the missing tooth.

So that was what had caused the dried blood smeared on his chin that had made his friend look like some crazed cannibal. He could bear it no longer he needed to know. Just what exactly had Legolas suffered?

"Las," he took a deep breath and looked Legolas square in the face. "Las what happened? What did those Men do to you?"

A haunted looked entered Legolas' eyes for a brief second before his friend pushed it away and replaced it with indifference.

"It matters not. They are gone I am here. It serves no one to speak about it."

Faervel helped his friend don his battered tunic as he raged in his heart against the men that had done this to his friend. What Legolas had suffered at the hands of those Men was clearly so distressing that he could not even bring himself to speak of it. Faervel only wished he had had the time to treat that _adan_ he had found to the long and torturous death he deserved – his had been far too quick and merciful. His rage however was soon spent and instead replaced by the heavier, nagging feel of guilt. It was his fault – if he had just held on tight to Legolas like he should have this would never have happened. He should have been stronger – he should have remembered his vows. His pledge; the pledge of the Royal Bodyguard rang clear in his mind.

' _I pledge my hand, verily I give this vow_

_Harm to my Royal charge I shall not allow_

_Eru let it be within my scope, within my power_

_To bravely face any danger and never to cower_

_Tis a great honour, one I shall never forsake_

_To be an ever-present help this I do undertake_

_Whether from kidnap, from poison, from treachery, from death_

_I pledge to do my utmost right unto my very last breath_

_May the Royal House of Oropher forever remain unmarred_

_For as long as I protect and serve; I am a Royal Bodyguard._ '

He pushed the accusing words from his mind as he leaned back on his haunches and gave Legolas a once over. His friend looked better now – not healthy – but at least he no longer looked as though he were one step away from _Mandos_ ' halls.

"There you go princeling," he stuck his tongue out at Legolas as he tried to keep things light and his heavy feelings at bay. "I need only to fashion a sling for you and then you can rest some more."

He sighed as he got no response from his friend who still sat in a tense and stiff way that suggested unease. He should not have brought up Legolas' ordeal so soon he berated himself; all he had done was succeed in making Legolas feel uncomfortable and close himself off. Legolas was frightfully good at locking others out and keeping all his hurts to himself. It mattered not how many times he was told by those who loved him that this was a bad idea. He glanced at Legolas as he retrieved his friend's belt for the sling – he really wished Legolas would open up to him just this once however. It was clear that whatever had happened to him whilst he was with the Men weighed heavily on his mind.

Faervel moved closer, whipped out the belt and made to loop it around Legolas' arm when he suddenly found himself on his back having been kicked (rather hard) by Legolas.

"Ah Valar Vel I'm so sorry I just…I didn't…I…"

"It's ok Las," Faervel gasped a little as he recovered from the blow that had winded him, "At least we know you have not totally lost your strength."

He rubbed his stomach ruefully and sat up belt still in hand.

"I'm so very sorry Vel. I just…I just," Legolas gave a great wearied sigh. "You just came at me with the belt so fast and I thought… "

Legolas stopped and shook his head before he looked up at Faervel again. "I'm just sorry," he finished quietly.

Faervel's heart ached for his friend just then – he could very well guess what Legolas had thought. He dropped the belt and approached Legolas again palms held open and toward him.

"We can leave the sling for now if you promise to just rest and not move your arm unnecessarily."

Then Faervel hesitated for a moment but only for a moment – he simply had to know – he wanted to be able to help his friend. He needed to get Legolas to talk to him about what had happened. He had resolved to leave it at least until they were back home at the Palace, but if Legolas was going to react so violently and unpredictably to certain things then he would rather know what those things were to avoid stressing his friend further.

"Las please tell me what happened. I will not judge you nor speak a word you tell me to another soul but please – I cannot help you if you do not speak to me."

"You have helped me enough," Legolas graced him with a weak smile that came nowhere near his eyes. "Truly you've done much for me already _mellon-nin_. I can ask no more."

Faervel shook his head exasperated with his friend's avoidance techniques but decided to press no more for now – Legolas had already been through enough.

"If you will not speak of it then come now and rest," Faervel gestured to the small pillow he'd made from his cloak. "I'm afraid you will still have to sleep sitting up but you should hopefully rest easier now that I have done what I can for your wounds."

" _Hannon-le mellon-nin_ ," Legolas graced him with a smile before he set himself against the small pillow and unfocused his eyes.

**~o~**

Legolas shifted around for the umpteenth time. He simply could not find any sleep despite the fact that Faervel had fully seen to all his injuries and had given him some pain relieving herbs. Deciding to give up on sleep he sat up fully and looked over at Faervel who was at the cave mouth keeping a sharp look-out.

Even at the angle Faervel was stood at, which afforded Legolas only a view of his face in profile, Legolas could clearly see his worry and misery. Legolas nearly sighed as he continued to watch his friend who seemed oblivious to the scrutiny. He really did not want Faervel worrying over him yet he really did not want to discuss what had happened whilst he had been held captive with anyone. He just wanted to forget it all; to wipe it clean from his memory.

Yet it was clear that it would not be so easy if his little attack on Faervel was anything to go by. Legolas closed his eyes still annoyed with himself for acting so rashly and lashing out as he had. He had panicked when Faervel had made the sudden move coming toward him to wrap the belt around him. Bad memories of being tied up by the Men had surfaced unexpectedly and all sense had left him as he quickly hit out to stop the perceived threat. It was rather irksome as now Faervel was no doubt worried out of his ever-caring mind for him. He felt bad for his friend, wanted to tell him what had happened – perhaps it would even help him. Yet thinking back on what he had been through Legolas felt ashamed; he should have been stronger, should have fought harder. He did not want to admit his perceived weakness to anyone – not even to one of his dearest and closest friends.

"Quit beating yourself up for what happened Las."

Legolas' jumped and his eyes snapped open; he hadn't realised Faervel had turned to face him. "I don't know what you mean." His reply was quick and automatic.

"Oh come now Las – I know you very well and I know that right now you are going over everything that happened and berating yourself for it." Faervel straightened up to face him fully, "Just know that no one will think you weak for anything that has happened."

Legolas huffed a sigh and closed his eyes again. Faervel could be so knowing and annoyingly right at times. He did not want to have this conversation. He opened his eyes again as he felt Faervel settle down beside him and he raised a questioning brow at his friend.

"Do not worry _mellon-nin_ all is still and quiet out there – daytime will truly be our best bet for leaving these mountains unseen and unhindered."

"Yes we will leave tomorrow," Legolas agreed softly as he watched his friend. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he looked under enormous strain. It was all very good him telling Legolas to sleep but when had Faervel last done so himself?

Legolas snatched his remaining dagger from its sheath and with some great strain managed to get to his feet. "You need some rest Vel. I am well enough to keep watch – you can sleep."

"Don't be ridiculous Las. I will continue to keep watch you needn't strain yourself."

Legolas glared down at Faervel, "It will not be any strain to me. See I shall sit," and he plonked himself down with perhaps a little more force than was wise or necessary and was hard pressed to cover up a grimace.

Faervel threw him an unconvinced look.

Legolas continued to glare at his friend unperturbed. "If it makes you feel any better you can sleep with your daggers in hand and I will shout for you the moment I see anything. And if that is not enough I shall wake you at nightfall so you can take the night watch."

Legolas hoped the compromise would be enough to get his friend to take some rest for himself.

Faervel looked as though he was struggling with himself internally but at last gave in with an exasperated sigh. "Fine I will rest but you _must_ keep your word Las. Wake me if you see anything and wake me up for the night watch. I shouldn't like you to take the night watch alone when all the beasts climb from their holes."

Legolas nodded and smiled eager to agree – knowing Faervel had probably gotten very little sleep since the ordeal began. It would be in both their interests if he got some rest now so that he would be refreshed enough when they took their leave of these dreadful Mountains on the morrow.

"Ok and one other thing," Faervel stood and crossed so that he was no longer at the very back of the cave but now closer to both Legolas and the entrance. "I will sleep here."

"Suit yourself – just go to sleep already."

Faervel only smirked and Legolas turned his back on his infuriating friend to begin his watch.

He was pleased to note when he turned to check on Faervel a few minutes later that his friend was fast asleep.

**~o~**

"Hail troops!"

Aglardaer made sure his greeting was loud and said while he and the four troops he was with were still a little way off from those they were approaching. He knew better than to ride up suddenly and spook _maethyr_ who were on edge as Captain Sanya and Legolas' troops were bound to be.

" _Mae govannen_ Commander," was the chorused reply.

Aglardaer replied in kind before he looked round at all of them assessing. They looked tense, weary and worried – the members of Legolas' troop looked particularly strained. He nimbly leapt off his horse and made his way over to Aithel and the two litters that presumably carried Hadril and Arasson.

"How do they fare Aithel?" Aglardaer looked up from the two knowing that they were badly off by a simple glance at their faces – pale and lifeless as they were.

"Not good Commander – I am doing all I can but…they are gravely ill indeed. We really need to get them to the palace."

Aglardaer nodded even as he studied the _elleth_ in front of him. Aithel looked exhausted, no doubt having spent nearly all her energy in keeping her fellows out of _Mandos_ ' Halls.

"I am sure you have done your best. Rest now, this troop will be accompanying you back to the Palace," he waved in the direction of one of the four troops that accompanied him.

"There are two healers within this troop – they can take over now and help get Hadril and Arasson safely home."

" _Le fael_ Commander."

The young _elleth_ nearly sagged in her relief and Aglardaer frowned – clearly she was a lot wearier than she had been letting on and Aglardaer supposed that was the case for all of Legolas' troop. They had come from one of the more draining patrols only to be met with horror and senseless violence and had been forced into fighting for their lives.

Aglardaer let his eyes sweep the rest of the group his gaze settling on those responsible - the now captive _edain_. Though his face betrayed none of the hot rage he felt toward them he noticed how the Men all cowered under his stare none the less. Good, he thought, they should be scared – facing the wrath of Thranduil would not be a happy experience for them.

At last he redirected his gaze to the elves before him, "I mentioned that I will leave one troop here to escort you and help you on your way back to the Palace. The rest of us go now to the Woodsmen villages."

He directed a glare toward the _edain_ before he continued, "We will deal with any Men found still lurking there. Be safe and _hortho le huil vaer_."

After a few more instructions to the troop he was leaving behind as escort he mounted his horse again and signalled his troops to ride. They had trespassers in their woods to take care of.

**~o~**

Legolas watched as the shadows outside their temporary shelter began to lengthen as the afternoon waned into early evening. Soon time to awaken Faervel and yet…

Legolas glanced over to where his friend was currently deep in sleep – so deep in fact that his eyes were very nearly closed. He must be exhausted, but Legolas had given his word that he would wake Faervel once darkness fell. He bit his lip undecided before he watched as his friend's eyes slid completely shut.

That settled it for him and pushing away any unease and guilt he felt over breaking his promise he turned his gaze outward again as he settled in to take the night watch. He could handle it. For it seemed the spot they had chosen wasn't well frequented – he hadn't seen nor heard anything all afternoon and he doubted that would change even as it became night. Besides he knew Faervel would awaken the instant he was called so he was in no true danger.

That decided Legolas readjusted his one handed grip on his dagger and stared out into the darkening evening.

**~o~**

Legolas sat back down; he had stood up to relieve the numbness in his legs from sitting crossed legged for so long whilst he kept watch. Yet now his injured right leg throbbed reminding him he was not as hale as he would like to think and prompted him to sit once more.

Settled comfortably again he glanced over at Faervel who had not stirred even once since he had first fallen asleep. Legolas smiled fondly and was about to turn back to his so far boring watch when he thought he saw something on Faervel's wrist. Well, something besides the usual small tattoo declaring their House that all wood elves got upon reaching maturity. Legolas stared at his friend's hands intently wondering if perhaps he had seen a bug or maybe nothing at all.

Faervel's hands were in his lap, palms turned upward and his hands were now lax around the hilts of his twin knives. Just as Legolas was about to turn round and give it up as his eyes playing tricks on him he saw it again. A quick flicker on his skin just below the tattoo on his right wrist. What on Arda was that?

It flickered again and Legolas knew then that it was a glamour spell – no doubt weakening due to Faervel's exhaustion hence the flickering.

Why was Faervel using a glamour spell? And in such a peculiar part of the body? Legolas looked to see if it would flicker again but it seemed stable for the moment.

How, curious, he thought, he could not recall Faervel gaining any injury or any harm that would cause him to use a glamour. He only knew a handful of elves who used glamour spells to cover up imperfections that not even the elven body could heal. Most notable of those few was his own _Adar_ who used a very powerful glamour to cover up the fact that he was half blind and missing most of the left side of his face. He doubted Faervel's would be anything quite so dramatic though.

He looked once more to see that it flickered again – more slowly this time – and his eyes widened when he finally saw what it covered up. There below Faervel's tattoo that declared him of the House of Arvellon was a small yet easily recognisable symbol.

Delicate thorny vines fashioned into a circle enclosed the tiny oaken leaf symbol of the House of Oropher. It was a symbol that all members of the Royal Bodyguards wore.

Legolas snapped his eyes away from the symbol and back to the darkness that now reigned outside his mind whirling. Why was Faervel wearing that symbol? More importantly why had he gone to such great lengths to cover it up? Surely it could not be? Surely Faervel was not his bodyguard? He would have known. Faervel would have told him surely? He would not keep such a great secret from Legolas. Nay it was not true.

Legolas chanced another look but the glamour was in place once more. Legolas let out a slightly shaky breath – maybe he was hallucinating – he had hit his head rather hard after all. Yet for all that he wanted to convince himself otherwise he knew what he had seen to be true and as he cast his mind back over the decades it all began to fall into place.

The way Faervel and he had 'happened' to be placed in the same troop twice – both in the Regular and the Elite; how it was that Faervel was often given special leave to accompany him on diplomatic trips to towns of Men. It certainly explained his sometimes overbearing mother-hen attitude toward him and why it was that they had hardly spent a day apart for the better part of the past eight centuries.

Legolas stared at Faervel who slept on oblivious to the tumultuous thoughts that now raced through his mind. Hurt, betrayal and anger all warred for a placed. Was this the only reason Faervel had come after him? Duty? Was their friendship really nothing more than a solemn pledge to Faervel?

His heart ached at the thought and he wearily leaned against the wall suddenly feeling every one of his hurts. His grip on his dagger remained strong though and his eyes did their best to pierce the blackness outside their cave. He would still keep watch. Faervel needed his rest still – his failing glamour was testament to that fact – and despite what he had seen Legolas could not quite bring himself to wake his exhausted friend.

He leaned against the wall and prepared for a long night's watch.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suilad – Greetings
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Egyl Edain – Evil Men
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Mellon-nin - My friend
> 
> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Mae Govannen – Well met
> 
> Elleth - Female elf
> 
> Le fael – Literally: You are generous – Sindarin version of Thank you
> 
> Hortho le huil vaer – May useful winds speed you on
> 
> A/N: So a double post for you all this weekend as I feel the two chapters need to be read together. Also I will be away for a business trip so I didn't want to leave you hanging with just the one chapter. Hope you enjoy and read on for Chapter 25 :)


	25. Chapter 25

Faervel woke to a brusque shake of his arm and he snapped his eyes open even as he wondered when he had closed them in the first place. His next surprise was to see the dull grey light of morning tentatively creeping into their cave. Legolas stood at the entrance to the cave dagger in hand with his back to him.

Faervel sat upward in a hurry suddenly fully awake, "it's morning," dismay was clear in his voice. "You were supposed to wake me Las."

"You needed the rest." Legolas' reply was curt and cold though Faervel was so caught up in his worry he did not notice it.

"But you promised you would wake me for the night watch Las. You are injured and need the rest more than I."

"Cease your fussing," Faervel took note of the sharp edge to his friends voice then, "you were exhausted."

Faervel ran a hand through his hair sheepishly, "Well I was a bit tired but I would hardly say exhausted."

"Oh no?" Legolas' voice was still icy and Faervel wondered at it until Legolas continued, "Well I beg to differ. I think your failing glamour is testament to that fact."

Faervel's eyes immediately dropped down to look at his wrist before they snapped upwards to see Legolas giving him a cold look. Faervel knew he was caught – he had just confirmed it by looking down at his wrist. He gave a long sigh as he wondered how best to approach this with a clearly annoyed Legolas.

_Valar_ why? He had known sooner or later that the truth would out but he wanted to have been the one to out himself, to tell Legolas of his secret occupation and the reasons behind his choice and the secrecy. Now was hardly the ideal time and it was certainly not the place; yet one look at Legolas' face and Faervel knew he would have to say something before Legolas got truly angry. It was a rare sight indeed but Legolas in a rage was just as frightening as an enraged Thranduil. The legendary temper of the members of the House of Oropher was no mere myth.

Faervel sighed aloud again before he looked his friend in the eye, "The glamour -"

"Why the glamour? Why do you hide being a member of the Royal Bodyguards?"

"I do not -" Faervel tried to answer before he was again cut-off.

"And why do I find out only now? And in this manner?"

Faervel swallowed – he was too late, Legolas it seemed had had the entire night to ponder the matter and was already irate.

"Do you not think it would have been prudent to inform your very own charge that you were their guard?" Legolas' voice had risen steadily with each tersely bitten out question and he had shouted this last one.

Faervel winced – it would not do for Legolas to awaken every evil on this mountain. "Las please do not shout so, you will –"

He was cut-off again as his friend pinned him with a glare, "Why should I not shout? Would it make your job more difficult if the creatures of darkness came here to attack me now? Would it be more problematic to fulfil your vows?"

Faervel could only tighten his grip on the handles of his daggers even as his eyes frantically darted behind Legolas to check that nothing evil was on its way to maul them. For surely Legolas had woken everything within a mile radius with his last thundered questions.

He grit his teeth, "As a matter of fact yes, creatures attacking you now would make the task I have taken on a good deal more problematic. But please Las you should know, you _must_ know that my love for you far surpasses any vow I have taken. I love you like a brother Legolas – you know this."

"Some brother," Legolas snorted.

"I wish you had not found out like you have but please know I did not do this to hurt you. And I promise you I had every intention of telling you."

"Is that so?" Legolas arched a golden eyebrow at him. "Pray tell when exactly you were planning on enlightening me? At the end of all things? Because it does not look like you were ever going to get around to it this millennium."

"Las I am sorry. There is nothing else I can do now to make it better bu-"

"Yes there is – you can tell me why you would lie to me for all these centuries. You can also tell me every single thing you and my devious _Adar_ have plotted behind my back over the years."

"Your _Adar_ does not deserve blame in this Las."

"Oh please," Legolas sneered "I know my own _Adar_ and he will be up to his scheming neck in this. In fact it was most probably his idea. Although I expected better of you – I thought you were my friend."

Faervel caught the hint of hurt in Legolas' eyes with this last statement and his heart clenched. "I am your friend Legolas – above all else I am your friend," he sighed, "and please, you really ought not to speak of your _Adar_ and King in that manner."

The hurt was gone in an instant and replaced with indignation.

"Do not dare to lecture me _now_ ," Legolas snapped hotly before he straightened himself and ran a hand through his hair. He turned once again to face the outside world. "It does not look it but it is morning now and I have a pressing need to get off this cursed mountain. Let us make haste."

"O-ok." Faervel gathered up his few possessions before he unfurled his cloak and walked over to Legolas.

"I am ready if you are," he paused and gave the outside sky a worried look – it was grey, overcast and drizzling. "Here Las," Faervel held out the cloak, "I'd like it if you wore this, I would hate you to get a chill."

Legolas' look was glacial. "I am an elf and I do _not_ get chills."

"Fine," Faervel gave a slight shrug, "but you must tell me if you need it or anything else."

Faervel had enough of a battle on his hands at the moment – no need to borrow more trouble by forcing Legolas into anything he did not want.

He pinned the cloak round his own shoulders and with one last glance around the cave to ensure it was just as empty as they had first found it he followed Legolas out into the miserable, wet day outside.

**~o~**

Thunder rumbled ominously above as the sky got another shade darker; the light drizzle now a steady rain. Legolas grit his teeth as he did his best to fight against slipping, falling and adding to the pain in his aching body. His anger was slowly wearing off and he was able to feel the pain ever more acutely with each step. Of course he had no intention of forgiving Faervel such a massive lie quite so easily and therefore had steadfastly and stubbornly refused any help from his friend. Friend? Or just his body guard? Legolas felt more than a little hurt and just a tad confused. How did Faervel really view their relationship – was he truly his friend or was he simply paying lip service and telling Legolas what he wanted to hear.

Legolas shook his head annoyed with these thoughts and resolved to put them to the back of his mind until they were safely back home. However shaking his head was total folly as it set his world spinning again and his nausea returned with a vengeance. He swayed a moment and he reached out with his good arm and used the rock face to steady himself.

"Las I really wish you would let me help." Faervel's voice floated from behind where he was acting as rear-guard. "And I wish you would wear this cloak – the rain is not getting any lighter."

Legolas straightened and held back a sigh as he waited for the sky and ground to return to their proper places. He ignored Faervel for the moment – he had little strength to argue or retort.

"Las?"

Legolas felt his anger flare at Faervel's persistence – he really was not in the mood to be coddled – especially not by Faervel.

"What is it?" he barked. "Must you constantly fuss?" Feeling a bit less sick to his stomach Legolas began to move again.

"You needn't be so rude," Faervel snapped, "Why can you never simply accept help? Get over your pride!"

Legolas whipped round to glare at Faervel even as he was careful not to let his regret at the sudden action show on his face. He was annoyed to see Faervel glaring right back. What did he have to be angry about?

"Just stop trying to mother me. I am a grown _ellon."_

"Then why do you act like an elfling – just let me aid you to get down the mountain. It's very slick with all this rain, if you slip and fall you risk reopening the wounds I worked so hard on." Faervel was shouting now.

"Just be quiet – contrary to what you seem to think I am well able to look after myself." Legolas replied in kind, voice far too loud.

"Legolas for the love of _Elbere-_ "

Faervel was cut off as he suddenly grabbed Legolas' hand and yanked them both to the ground moments before an arrow flew through the air where they had both been standing.

" _Yrch_ ," was Faervel's grim assessment as he cautiously scanned the direction in which the arrow had come whilst Legolas simply tried to recover from being winded.

"How many?" he gasped.

Faervel grimaced, "around ten I think just bit higher up than us on a ledge." He pulled out his bow and let loose several volleys each of which were met with a pained howl.

Legolas in the meantime got into a crouching battle stance, single dagger in hand as he looked all around them. How had he not sensed the orcs at all? Was he truly so badly off?

Faervel knocked another arrow before he glanced at Legolas, "This is my last arrow – there are still more orcs appearing. I'll shoot and then we run. We'll have to find a cave or something to hide in or just a place where we are not so exposed and we can defend ourselves better. Can you manage? Truthfully?"

Legolas nodded a determined gleam in his eyes, "Yes please trust me." It would hurt but he could do it – the alternative was unthinkable.

"Okay on three – one, two, three." Faervel let his arrow fly and Legolas pushed himself up.

They ran.

**~o~**

" _Dar!"_

Aglardaer held out his hand in addition to his hissed command to bring the troop he was with to a halt. They were all in place now having stalked and then surrounded the larger of the two Woodsmen villages. They had already checked out the smaller one and were relieved to find nothing amiss there. The _edain_ he sought had to be here then. Once a quick check behind him showed that all his _eledhrim_ were ready he gave the signal – the chirpy unassuming call of a sparrow.

As one the elves all leapt over the wall and all hell brook loose upon the village as one of the mannish sentries spotted them and gave a loud warning cry to all his comrades. Aglardaer simply shook his head as he watched the some of the Men foolishly try to take up arms against his elves. Others abandoned all pretence at bravery and instead made a dash for it seeking somewhere they could hide or perhaps escape from the village altogether. They would have no joy trying to escape through the village gates for Aglardaer had stationed four of his warriors there to prevent any such thing.

These Men were all going to be caught and punished, he thought as he swung himself into the fray, resistance from them was futile.

He easily blocked the wild swings of the man in front of him before he quickly pressed him back into a corner with a few well timed attacks of his own.

Aglardaer pressed his broadsword up against the man's throat, "Drop your weapon human."

The man in front him trembled under the stern elven gaze, "I…I…I haven't done anything leave me be." He still clutched on to his own duller sword as if it were a lifeline.

"Really?" Aglardaer arched an eyebrow and gave the man a cold smile. "Then pray tell human why you attacked me just then?"

"B-because you…you and them other elves have just invaded our village yeah?"

Aglardaer snorted, annoyed with the man's audacity to claim the village as his own. He pressed his sword a little bit harder with one hand and grabbed the man's wrist with the other. He squeezed until he heard the man's weapon drop to the ground. In a flash he whirled the man around and yanked his arms backwards before securing them behind the man's back with a piece of rope. He steered the man over to the area he had designated for his _maethyr_ to bring their captives and handed him over to the elves in charge of watching over them. He was pleased to see that already there were seven men held captive.

Delighted with their progress so far he left to continue the business of capturing the mercenaries and releasing the Woodsmen.

He soon had another man trapped and back into a corner and he gave a little smile, content that they were restoring order back to his beloved Wood.

**~o~**

Aglardaer watched with dispassion as the last of the bodies was bound, wrapped and secured to a hastily made litter. There had been only two fatalities on the Men's side and just a few small cuts and bruises on his side. Twas a successful mission in his eyes.

Just a few feet away from him all the captive men – thirteen in total – now stood bound and chain ganged together with ropes under the watchful eyes of his warriors. He and his troops would take them back to the Palace and let Thranduil deal with them as he saw fit. Aglardaer almost felt sorry for them.

Just then someone cleared their throat behind him and he turned to see that the Chief of the Woodsmen along with all his people were standing before him heads bowed in supplication.

The Chief looked up at him then before he placed his hand over his heart, " _Mae govannen_ Master elf. My people and I are in your debt and the debt of King Thranduil."

Aglardaer smiled kindly at the man, "Forget about it – we were simply doing our duty. You are under the King's protection and have lived with us in peace for long years. We are pleased to help. My only regret is that it took us so long to get to you."

The wizened _adan_ smiled, "We are simply grateful that you came. Again Master elf, warrior elves we thank you. _Hannon-le._ "

Aglardaer bowed his head and watched as the Chief and his people walked away back toward their homes. They were dishevelled and thin with a good many more looking decidedly shell shocked. He hoped they would be ok and be able to get back on their feet again.

Aglardaer decided that he would speak with Thranduil about sending a troop down here to visit and check that all was well in a week or two. While he was at it he would also speak to his King about perhaps putting patrols in this area. They had purposefully left this area out of their regular patrol sections as they had not wanted the Woodsmen to feel spied upon or crowded. However if there had been a patrol in this area the presence of these evil mercenary men would have been discovered long before they would have had the chance to create so much trouble. Legolas' troop would never have suffered the ambush.

Yes, he decided firmly, it was definitely something he needed to discuss with Thranduil.

He turned once more to face his troops and the _edain_ they guarded, "Come let us get back to our horses and make haste to the Palace." He paused to glare at the Men who were to travel with them, "I warn you all now humans, whoever does not keep up with us or makes any fuss will be dealt with swiftly and permanently."

Aglardaer gave a self-satisfied smile as he watched them all cower at his words. He had no intention of shedding blood needlessly of course but the _edain_ did not need to know that – particularly if it kept them compliant.

With one last look around the village now restored to its rightful inhabitants he followed his _eledhrim_ out through the village's gates and into the forest beyond.

**~o~**

Legolas ran as fast as he could manage, Faervel close behind him. He was hoping against hope that the orcs that had been on that ledge above them would not be able to catch them up too quickly – that they would have to take one of the many winding and twisty paths carved throughout the Mountains. His hopes were dashed a moment later however as they rounded a bend and ran straight into another pack of around twenty orcs headed their way. Legolas groaned – it seemed they would have no choice but to fight.

Dagger raised he charged straight for the beasts not giving them any time to react to the sudden appearance of two elves. He stabbed one in the stomach then spotted an opportunity and with a great push he shoved the orc clean off the path and over the cliff edge into the mist below.

A dark blur that Legolas soon recognised as Faervel threw itself in front of him and began to attack the orcs with fury.

"Throw them over the side," Legolas yelled as another two scraped past Faervel's defences and simultaneously launched themselves at him scimitars raised.

Legolas ducked and took full advantage of their unprotected stomachs and slashed his lone knife across them both before he kicked out at the one closest to the ledge who promptly lost its balance and fell over the side.

Legolas grit his teeth against the oncoming pain and with his bad arm grabbed hold of the other orc who was clutching its stomach before he finished it off with a clean slit of the neck. He hurled that body over the cliff side too and looked up pleased to see that Faervel had managed to dispatch of a couple of the beasts in the same manner. There were still too many though, and they seemed to have gotten wise to their plan and now did their utmost to stay clear of the edge of the path. They were also beginning to gang up on Faervel who stood as a protective barrier in front of Legolas.

Suddenly Faervel gave a shout of pain as one orc got lucky and caught him with its blade before another took advantage of his distraction and gave him another glancing blow. He would be overwhelmed soon and Legolas was not about to let that happen injured or no. He forgot the fight they had been having – all that mattered now was helping his friend – his dear, centuries-long friend.

He lunged from behind Faervel at the orc who had first cut his friend and stabbed it viciously in the head before he dropped down and deftly grabbed a small dagger from Faervel's boot.

He bounced up again and launched himself at another orc and steadfastly ignored the pain that tore through his shoulder at his movements. He knew he had probably undone all of Faervel's hard work on his shoulder by now but needs must – he needed both hands to fight properly. And they both had to fight properly if they were to have a chance at surviving this latest attack.

He dispatched the rather stubborn orc at last and used its body to push another two away and over the cliff edge before he looked round at his friend.

Faervel was bleeding from two gashes in his upper right arm though neither seemed serious. The dark haired _ellon_ swiftly killed his own orc before he shouted over to him, "Las your arm! You shouldn't use your arm!"

Legolas whirled round and ducked just in time to avoid being decapitated. He smiled nastily at the orc who had tried that manoeuvre before he attacked it whilst he yelled back to Faervel.

"I have no choice Vel – we must fight or we will die. I need both arms."

Faervel made no response engaged as he was with yet another orc but he manoeuvred so he was standing almost back to back with Legolas – their long preferred fighting stance.

The small gesture gave the elf Prince courage and he began to fight with a new and determined vigour. There were only another five _yrch_ left. He could bear the pain and they could do this.

Legolas grit his teeth and lifted bloody knives, " _Gurth an glamhoth_!"

**~o~**

Elrohir did his best to ignore Elladan's disgruntled ramblings behind him as he continued to press on ahead up the steep, slick mountain path. His twin was _still_ moaning on about the fact that Elrohir had insisted they carry on with their orc hunting even though technically it was morning. Elrohir however failed to see his problem. _Anor_ hadn't exactly risen – it was still gloomy, pouring rain and the sky was getting darker with every black cloud that rolled in over the mountains. He had seen no reason for them to hole up and make camp. He had been sure that the _glamhoth_ would still be out roaming, as the inclement weather was a perfect shield from the daylight they usually cowered away from.

He had been already been proven right as they had cleanly dispatched a small band of orcs further down near the bottom of the path where they had left their horses in a large cave. He just knew that they would come across more.

"Elro," Elladan groaned, "must we really continue?"

Elrohir gave a small happy, little grin. Elladan would not be his Elladan without him worrying, fretting or murmuring about something or other.

"Yes Ladan we must. Come now haven't I already proven to you that there are _yrch_ out and about in this weather?"

He smiled again at the growl his brother gave and Elrohir carried on unrepentantly, "Come now Ladan don't spoil my f-"

He was cut off abruptly as an orc body fell directly in front of him missing him by less than an inch. He reared back in shock and fright as another thumped down onto the ground just in front of the first. Elladan was there beside him in a flash, and held him steady in case he lost his footing on the rain slick path.

Elrohir straightened himself, " _Valar_ that was close."

He made to move forward but Elladan's grip on him tightened all the more.

Elladan moved slightly backwards and eyed what he could see of the cliff above with wariness; his death grip on Elrohir never loosened and he pulled his twin further back from the bodies.

"That was way _too_ close Elro – wait a moment and see if it rains down anymore orcs. I cannot imagine it would be great fun to have one fall on you." Elladan gave a rare mischievous smile, "and I cannot promise you that I would not laugh should one squish you."

Elrohir scowled at his brother before he leaned a little forward eager to sneak a peek at their fallen nemesis. "Urgh, let go Ladan – I'll be careful. I want to know what the _yrch_ are up to."

Elladan snorted but let go of his twin all the same, "they are doing as they always do, fighting amongst themselves and those two were on the losing end."

"Nay Ladan – I don't think these two were killed at the hands of other _yrch_ ," Elrohir looked up at his brother as he pointed to the second orc that had fallen. "This orc had its throat cut – neatly. Much too neatly for this cut to have been inflicted by another orc. You know what the _glamhoth_ are like. Come and look. Tell me if they would do anything with such precision."

Elrohir watched as his brother inspected the cleanly cut neck of the orc and a strange sort of nervousness bubbled up within him as he waited for Elladan's verdict. To see if his twin would come to the same conclusion as he.

Elladan stood up from where he had stooped over the body and looked at him gravely. "You are right Elro, this was not inflicted by any orc. In fact I would say judging by the cleanness of the cut and the precision that it was done by an elf."

Elrohir nodded frantically even as his stomach did a weird sort of sinking action. He thought so too but he had so hoped his brother might prove him wrong. He hated to think that there was an elf here – perhaps alone – having to fend off capture by those beasts. It brought up too many awful memories that he would rather forget.

"Do you truly think there is an elf here? We knew of no patrols that were due to come anywhere near these mountains when we left."

"That's true," Elladan sighed, "but that may have changed while we have been away – alternately it could be an elf from Lothlórien. Either way, yes, I am positive that there is at least one other elf here."

Elrohir straightened, hands on the hilts of his twin knives, a determined look in his eyes as he forced down his fear and anger. "Well then we had better go and lend our aid."

Elladan nodded and the brothers carried on up the path and were soon brought to a stop again as they discovered another three broken and crushed looking orc bodies; two of which again had clean, elvish style throat slits. They looked at each other before quickening their pace.

Elrohir pulled his knives from their sheaths as the two began to run at the sight of yet another crumpled orc body. From the look of things there was an elf out here fighting for their life and he was damned if he would allow them to meet the same end as his _Naneth._

Nay, if he had anything to say about it things would be much different this time.

**~o~**

They had done it – and Legolas nearly wept with sheer relief.

His arm throbbed fiercely and he could feel the sticky, tell-tale wetness down his back that told him he had torn Faervel's carefully placed stiches and re-opened his wound. He cared not at the moment though, they had fought off that band of orcs – just the two of them back-to-back and the victory felt so very sweet. Legolas was quite giddy with the success despite the pounding pain in his shoulder. He felt invincible at that moment and this victory gave him confidence that come what may they would get off these mountains and back to the Wood alive.

He turned round to face Farevel's smiling confident face.

" _Valar_ Las we did it – we won."

Legolas gave his friend a great, beaming smile that suddenly froze and gave way to a look of abject horror as Faervel suddenly gave a shocked gasp and looked down in surprise at his stomach.

Sticking out of his abdomen was an orc-ish scimitar blade drenched in red blood.

Just as abruptly as the blade had appeared it disappeared again – yanked back out by one dying orc that lay just behind Faervel - its final act of evil.

Legolas screamed as his friend crashed to the ground with an agonised groan, and he launched himself at the orc and cut its throat with one swift flick of his wrist. The beast lay still – it was definitely dead now.

Yet it made no difference. It mattered not at all.

For Faervel lay in a crumpled, bloody heap as his life force gushed out at an alarming rate.

Legolas fell to his knees beside his friend and screamed again.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adar – Father
> 
> Ellon – Male Elf
> 
> Yrch – (Plural of Orch) – Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Dar - Halt
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Eledhrim-nin – My Elves (My People)
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Mae Govannen – Well met
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Gurth an Glamhoth – Death to the orcs
> 
> Anor – Sun
> 
> Glamhoth – Din horde; yelling horde- Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Naneth – Mother
> 
> A/N: So I hope you enjoyed the double post and now I apologise as there will be a delay in the next update as I have a week long business trip to attend. However I will do my best to update as quickly as I can. Hannon-le for reading mellyn-nin :)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First off I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. Basically my business trip got extended by a week and I just had no time to write at all. Secondly, I have made a change to my writing style for this chapter as I felt it flowed better this way – it's nothing too dramatic and I hope it doesn't throw you off. Lastly, a warning for the sensitive – there is some gore in this chapter – I don't think it merits a warning but I'm just being safe. So – finally – here it is – please enjoy and happy reading! :)

With arms that trembled Legolas gathered Faervel up and held him close to his chest, even as he tried to calm himself enough to help his friend. He took a deep breath as he ignored his own pains before he manoeuvred Faervel to sit up against the rock face. He needed to get a better look at the injury. Maybe, just maybe it would not be as bad as he feared.

"I need to get a closer look at this wound Vel, and I dare not move you any further – at least not until I know what we are dealing with."

Without waiting for Faervel to agree Legolas began to unfasten his friend's shirt. Or at least he tried to. His hands however trembled far too violently and slipped on the small buttons that were now liberally coated in blood. He huffed in annoyance before he hastily cut the shirt open with a quick flick of his knife. The sight below the shirt made him gasp aloud.

Blood. There was so much blood. It poured steadily out of the wound and leaked down Faervel's sides to pool on the ground beneath him. As for the wound – what a terrible wound it was. A wide, gaping hole with torn, jagged edges and if Legolas looked closely enough he could see the tip of a rib and other inner parts that he really did not want to see or think about.

At that moment Faervel looked very much like one of the many orcs Legolas had gutted in past battles and he hastened to shrug the stray thought away. He looked again at the wound and felt how his fear and panic rose higher within in him. Legolas held out arms that still shook over the wound then froze. He was no healer. He hadn't the faintest idea how he was going to get Faervel through this. His breaths began to quicken as his heart pounded out a wild rhythm within his chest. Past nightmare scenarios flashed across his mind's eye – faces of all the loved ones he had already lost in his life – friends, comrades, fellow warriors, his _Naneth._ Was Faervel destined to join them?

The Prince was pulled from his terrified, frozen state by gentle, warms hands that held onto his own. Faervel's hands.

Legolas looked up at his friend and Faervel gave him a soft smile.

" _Sîdh mellon-nin_ – do not look so terrified Las."

Legolas stared, "How can you tell me to be calm? To not be terrified? How are you not?" Legolas grasped his friend's hands harder, "Vel you are badly hurt and I…I am no healer."

"I know that Las and even if you were – there would still be nothing you could do for me."

"W-what do you mean?" Legolas grabbed Faervel's medical pouch as he sought out the remaining bandages within.

If he could just put enough pressure on the wound for a start and bind it tightly then he should be able to move Faervel somewhere safer and cleaner; out of the open where he could then get Faervel to direct him on stitching the wound back together.

Legolas found the bandages he sought and turned his attention back to Faervel – he felt near frantic now. Faervel had lost too much blood – and was _still_ losing blood. He needed to move faster.

"Please sit up a bit straighter Vel – not for too long - and I will get you bandaged up for now. Then I can move you and get you out of the open."

Faervel watched his friend's hands. Hands that still trembled, hands that slowly stained the bandages that he held red. Hands that so wanted to help but could not. Faervel knew in his heart of hearts that this wound was fatal. It would take help from one of the _Valar_ themselves for him to survive this. He knew Legolas knew it too – deep, deep down. It was kind of Legolas to stay here with him and try to help but it was a wasted cause. It would be better for Legolas to go on ahead and make an escape before the scent of his blood brought forth more fell beasts. There was no need for them both to die. Legolas could yet make it.

Legolas came near to help him sit up so he could wrap the bandages around him but Faervel held onto his friends arms again.

" _Nuitha_ Legolas. Your efforts will be wasted. My end is near. You are better off saving these bandages for that shoulder of yours."

Legolas looked wounded, "Nay Vel do not speak like this. Your end is not near – it is _nowhere_ near. Have we not gotten through dire scrapes before?"

"Please Las, I know it is hard for you and I wish the outcome was different but please believe me. Not even the best healer in Arda could fix what ails me now." Faervel gestured to the still exposed wound that rent his stomach. "Think you that I can recover from this? That my innards can be so easily pieced back together?"

Legolas looked stricken. Bereft. And Faervel's heart ached for him. He cursed himself - he should have ensured that all the cursed _yrch_ were truly dead. It was a basic rule in warrior training. Yet he had failed to do so and now paid the consequences. Consequences that Legolas would suffer from as well. Yet he needn't be a total failure – if he could get Legolas to see sense and flee the Mountain and make good his escape then at least Faervel could depart these shores with some peace.

Faervel looked into bright blue eyes that brimmed with tears ready to fall, "Please Las you must do what is best for you now. Do not waste any more time with me. Get away from here now. You will need all the head start you can get as your leg is still injured. Do not wait until my blood attracts more foul creatures." Faervel gave his friend's hands a gentle squeeze, "Please. Do not throw your life away for me Las. You can still make it – just go now. Please!"

Anger flared in Legolas' eyes as his tears fell at last before he hastily wiped at them and he snatched his arm away from Faervel.

"Nay. I will not leave you under any circumstances. Whom do you take me for? Some coward who will abandon a comrade?"

Legolas snorted before he eased Faervel up into a sitting up position and began to wind the bandages tightly around him. "You need to stop all this foolish babbling Vel. It is clear the blood loss has gone to your head. I am your Captain and I will _never_ leave one of my _maethyr_ behind."

Legolas tied off the last of his bandages and looked at his handiwork. He had done them up quite tightly and he hoped the pressure would be enough to stem or at least ease the bleeding. He snatched up Faervel's water skin and held it up to pale lips.

"Drink. Now." Legolas glared down at his friend determined to show he was serious and to stop Faervel from any arguments he may still try to make.

"Is it now your turn to play the role of _Nana_ Legolas?" Faervel grinned but did not move any closer to take the proffered drink.

Legolas simply frowned all the more and pressed the mouthpiece against his lips.

Faervel pulled back, "Las – please do not waste what little water is left on me. I have failed you enough since this entire ordeal began. Please will you allow me to succeed in his one thing? Please leave this forsaken place. Now. I beg you."

"Never. I have already told you I will never, ever abandon a comrade, much less one of my very best friends." Legolas shook the water skin in his face before he again held it up to Faervel's lips, "there is nothing on Arda that will cause me to leave you now so save your breath. If you are so concerned with me getting off this mountain you will drink this – now – and _then_ we can be on _our_ way."

Faervel took a slow reluctant sip – Legolas could be ridiculously stubborn and he really did want his friend to get away and get someplace a bit safer. Yet it was obvious that Legolas would sit out here by his side come what may if Faervel did not comply.

"More than that Vel – you have lost a lot of blood."

Faervel took a few more tentative sips before he shook his head, "I feel quite nauseous Las please no more just yet." It wasn't a lie – he really was starting to feel the effect of so much blood loss. Whenever he moved his head – even if a little- it swam in a most dizzying matter. He was also starting to feel quite tired.

"Is this a ploy to save on the water?" Legolas did his best to look firm but it looked more like a pained grimace due to how bruised, tired and drawn his face was.

Faervel smiled, "Nay, truly it would not be wise for me to have any more at the moment. Now please - will you agree to leave this place?"

"Yes. OK. Now that you have obeyed me and seen sense _we_ may leave _together_ \- you stubborn half Noldo." Legolas stuck his tongue out at his friend and bent to gather their knives that lay scattered and slick with both orc-ish and elvish blood.

Faervel smiled at the way his friend was still so determined that they leave together. It touched him and he was quite relieved to see that Legolas still held him dear despite the bodyguard debacle. It would be understandable for Legolas to feel bitterness over what was essentially a massive lie but true to his ever kind and loving nature Legolas had put the incident to the side and out of his mind and was still just as open and loving as he been before. Still Faervel felt like he needed to get Legolas' forgiveness; to hear it for himself. Not only that but he needed to apologise – to make sure Legolas understood just how sorry he was over both hiding the truth from him and over the fact that he had proved to be such a dismal bodyguard.

"Las?"

Legolas looked up from where he checked the supplies still left in the medical pouch with a look of alarm on his face that Faervel instantly sought to ease.

" _Sîdh_ I did not mean to alarm you – only to…to…to ask your forgiveness. And to apologise. Truly Legolas I am so very sorry."

Legolas shut the pouch and came up to Faervel before he put a comforting arm around him. "There is nothing you be sorry for Vel – please do not get so worked up _mellon-nin_ it cannot be good for you right now."

For Faervel had gotten worked up. His emotions had gotten the better of him and he cried freely.

"Nay Las there is much I should apologise for. I am sorry I hid the truth about me being your bodyguard from you – it was wrong of me but believe me I meant you no harm. And," Faervel stopped, sniffed and wiped at his tears. "I am sorry to have failed you so dismally as a bodyguard. I -"

Faervel cut himself off abruptly and tensed even as Legolas did the same.

Legolas listened carefully and slowly slid his knives back out of their sheaths. He had not been mistaken – there was definitely the sound of running feet coming toward them. It seemed Faervel had also heard them as his friend had suddenly fallen silent and now weakly clutched at one of his daggers.

Legolas shot him a look, "Do not even _think_ of getting up or doing anything similarly foolish such as fighting."

Faervel frowned at the command but remained propped up against the rocks dagger in hand. Satisfied Legolas decided to use the element of surprise and attack his enemies first.

He turned and moved off as stealthily as he was able, careful not slip of the wet rock path. Legolas tightened his grip on his knives and stalked forward – he was determined no further harm come to either of them. He stopped when it sounded as though the ones who approached were right before him and he lashed out hard.

He was surprised when his attack was blocked and with seeming ease – and he was even more surprised to hear a voice call out to him in Sindarin.

"Baw, baw – daro!"

Legolas dropped his arms, knives by his side, shocked into inaction as he truly looked at his opponent for the first time. A dark haired _ellon_ faced him with a look of concern and his arms held in a placating manner.

Legolas stared. Where on Arda had this _ellon_ appeared from?

"Easy _mellon_ I don't mean you any harm." The _ellon_ smiled and placed his knives back in their sheaths, "are you alone?"

Legolas about to answer when he noticed a second _ellon_ behind the first. This one looked exactly like the first but seemed less friendly and Legolas was instantly on the defensive again.

"Don't mind my twin he is the uglier one," the first responded and pulled the other next to him and gave Legolas a bright smile before he asked again, "are you here alone _mellon_?"

The words spoken finally clicked in Legolas' mind and he gave silent thanks to all the _Valar_. He had no idea where these twin _ellyn_ had appeared from but he cared not. They could help him save Faervel.

Legolas felt a sudden surge of energy before he latched on to the first _ellon_ 's hand and pulled the _ellon_ after him.

"Please," he begged "my friend is nearby and gravely injured. Please you must help him."

Legolas tugged the _ellon_ behind him in his haste to get back to Faervel.

For all his protests earlier Legolas knew that with only his unskilled help Faervel was not likely to survive; but now – with the help of these _ellyn_ he may yet have a chance of recovery. He knew the wound looked bad but until he had tried everything and done his utmost Legolas would not give up on Faervel.

So he all but dragged the dark haired _ellon_ behind him and right up to Faervel. Legolas fell to his knees beside his friend who looked a lot worse than when Legolas had left him. He had gotten even paler and one crimson stained hand clutched at his wounded stomach whilst the other weakly held his dagger.

"L-Las you... you're back."

"Shush do not try and speak save your strength." Legolas cradled Faervel and looked up at the identical _ellyn_ beseechingly. "Please, lend him your aid."

**~o~**

Elrohir had been stunned when the blonde _ellon_ had so suddenly grabbed him and dragged him off round the bend. He had felt the leap in his twin's nervous energy and knew that Elladan had been ill at ease with the situation. Yet Elrohir had allowed himself to be dragged along by the desperate elf and now looked down at both him and his friend in a stunned silence.

There was another elf – dark haired and about to enter _Mandos'_ Halls by the looks of things. The blonde pleaded for his help again and Elrohir snapped out of his stupor and threw himself to his knees before the pair and gently began to examine the stricken _ellon._

Elrohir's initial assessment of the elf was correct – he was in a terrible state and Elrohir was surprised that he still lived at all. The bandage that had been tightly put around him was saturated with blood, as was the ground all around him. Elrohir bit his lip – he was unsure how much he could do for this elf. He was unsure how much even his own _Adar,_ world renowned healer, would be able to do to help this elf. Still he would try and do his best – he would let no elf lose their life to these cursed mountains and the creatures that plagued them if he could help it.

He looked up as he felt Elladan's presence.

"I have found a cave, not far from here – it is clean and uninhabited – you will be able to do your work much better there."

Elrohir nodded at his brother in thanks – he hadn't even noticed when Elladan had moved off so focused had he been on the examining the elf before him.

Elrohir reached for the injured elf, an action which caused his blonde friend to flinch and regard him warily.

Elrohir gave the elf a kind smile, "Please, I will carry him to the cave my brother has found and treat him there. Forgive me but you do not look as though you would be able to carry him yourself at present."

Elrohir hoped the _ellon_ would not take offense – but he did look quite badly off as well. He wondered what misfortune had befallen them before he reached out again.

"Do not worry. I am trained in the healing arts. I will do my best to aid your friend."

The blonde elf looked hopeful at this revelation and nodded before he handed over his precious quarry. Elrohir gathered the elf in his arms and watched the blonde one weakly climb to his feet before they all set off after Elladan.

Thankfully the cave wasn't too far as promised and once inside Elladan whipped of his cloak and spread it on the ground for Elrohir to lay the stricken elf on.

" _Hannon-le_ Ladan," Elrohir lay the elf out upon the cloak and hurriedly stripped him of his shirt and the blood soaked bandages. He grimaced as he saw the true extent of the wound. This elf needed surgery – and from a healer skilled in such delicate work. Elrohir would not be able to do that here but he would attempt to at least stop the bleeding and stitch the _ellon_ back together again. Hopefully that would be enough to keep him in the land of the living until they could get him to better help – preferably his _Adar_.

"Give me your water skin Ladan and your med pouch too – I will need everything we have."

Elladan handed over the requested items and watched for a moment as Elrohir got the injured elf to take some herbs that would put him to sleep before he began his work.

Elladan held back a sigh – his brother certainly had his work cut out for him with the task of trying to save this _ellon._ He was gravely injured and as skilled as Elrohir was Elladan was not sure if it would be enough. He noticed the blonde haired elf that sat hunched over on himself in one corner of the cave – he stayed well out of Elrohir's way but his eyes never left his friend. He looked terrible – like he hadn't eaten nor slept in days and he clutched at a small and silver coloured object and chanted something – perhaps a prayer – under his breath.

He looked so frail, so weak, so traumatised. In the dim light of the cave the _ellon's_ blonde hair seemed duller – closer to silver – and Elladan was suddenly transported back to a time and place he never wished to visit again. He could clearly see in his mind's eye his _Naneth_ – hunched over on herself looking worse for wear. Looking frail, weak and traumatised in a corner of some dank cave. Elladan shook his head and willed the terrible thoughts away; he decided that he would go and retrieve their horses from where they had left them a bit further down the mountain. He was not needed here now – the healing arts were Elrohir's domain and Elladan needed to get out. To get away from the memories that seemed determined to choke him.

"I go to get Arauca and Alarca Elro," Elladan paused and did his best to avoid looking at the broken blonde elf.

Elrohir gave a distracted nod and hum of approval before he replied, "Yes – we have more supplies with them…"

His twin trailed off as his focus drifted back to the task before him and Elladan turned on his heel and strode out of the cave and into the still grey, rainy day outside. Despite the weather he was glad to be outside of the cave with its oppressive and unwanted memories and he hurried down the path from whence they came, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of Nyérënehtar.

**~o~**

Elrohir pulled back his bloodied hands and studied his handiwork thus far. He had managed to staunch most of the bleeding. He could do no more now other than stitch the wound back together – hopefully then he and Elladan would be able to transport this _ellon_ to further help without him passing into the Halls of _Mandos_ along the way.

Elrohir began to thread a new, larger needle in preparation for the stitches when the blonde elf unfolded himself and shuffled just the tiniest bit closer toward him.

"How does he fare?"

The words were barely above a whisper but Elrohir caught them none the less and looked up at the blonde.

"I will not lie to you – he is in a bad way and he needs far more help than I can give here." Elrohir gave a gentle smile, "I promise you to do my best though. I have stopped most of the bleeding. It is my hope that what I have done will help him to survive at least until we can get him to proper help."

"Then I am deeply in your debt for he is dear to me. Anything you can do to aid him is very much appreciated."

Elrohir nodded and turned his eyes back to the task before him, "He will need further surgery if he is to survive this but hopefully he will be able to hold on until that help is reached."

All was silent for a moment as Elrohir focused on placing his first few stitches correctly and neatly. Satisfied he shifted his attention to the blonde _ellon_ who had again shrank back in on himself and seemingly whispered prayers.

Elrohir was curious about both _ellyn_ ; wondered at their story. What had brought them here? What ill had befallen them to bring them to this point? Both seemed as though they had been through much. It would not be right to ask them to divulge all now, but he could at least find out the basics he decided – their names, where the came from. For they spoke with a curious lilting accent that he could not recall having heard before.

Eyes still on his careful stitching he asked, "So what is your name _mellon_? And that of your friend? I am Elrohir Elrondion and my brother is Elladan."

Legolas watched the dark haired _ellon's_ \- Elrohir's - hands as they carefully and tenderly worked on Faervel. Elrondion. Of course - these were the twins Sons of Elrond. He had heard tale of them and their wild orc hunts. Though the two realms barely communicated officially there was still plenty of gossip that passed back and forth between the elves of both realms. Yes, he had heard tales of them both – how they had lost their _Naneth_ to orcs in these very same mountains and were now consumed by fury and bloodlust and spent all their days killing orcs.

He glanced at Elrohir – he did not seem crazed nor driven by blood lust though he wasn't so sure about the other one – Elladan. He had seemed pretty cold.

Just then Elrohir glanced up at him and raised a sable eyebrow which reminded Legolas he had not yet answered the questions asked of him.

He ran a tired hand through his bedraggled hair and redirected his gaze toward his friend.

"His name is Faervel. Lord Faervel Mallossonion of the Noble House of Arvellon." Legolas ran a hand through Faervel's hair lightly. Please _Valar_ spare him, he prayed.

"And your own name _mellon-nin_?" Elrohir prodded gently.

Legolas hesitated as years of protective training that had thought him to never reveal his true identity to strangers kicked in. Yet he could hardly class Elrohir as a stranger now could he? Strangers were not so helpful and certainly not so open with their own identity. Legolas took a small breath and let it out in a huff as he fought against his ingrained training.

Finally, never taking his eyes away from Faervel he spoke, "My name is Legolas. Legolas Thranduilion."

Legolas did not bother adding the rest of his title – people usually filled in the blanks for themselves (besides Prince Legolas Thranduilion of the Royal House of Oropher was rather a mouthful). Instead he waited quietly to see what Elrohir's reaction would be. He did not wait long.

"Valar!" Elrohir was stunned. "Legolas Thranduilion – as in King Thranduil of the Woodland realm?"

"Yes."

" _Varda Elentári_ above. How have you come to be here?"

Legolas sighed wearily – he did not want to relive everything – not just now.

"Tis a long and tangled tale."

Elrohir was quick to pause in his work and wave a hand at him. "Please _mello –_ ah…Legolas. I did not mean to pry. I was merely surprised is all – it is not every day one stumbles across Royalty – certainly not in these mountains. But nevertheless you do not owe me any explanation."

" _Le fael_ Elrohir." Legolas mumbled tiredly even as he blinked several times to try and clear his vision which had begun to dance and waver with black spots here and there.

He knew these signs and he desperately wished them away. He could not pass out now; he needed to be strong for Faervel. Yet his vision got all the more cloudy and the pain that wracked his body – particularly the pain in his shoulder was hard to ignore. Burning, intense and it stabbed through him in time with his heart beat which was rather erratic. Legolas removed his hand from Faervel's hair and placed it on the ground in and attempt to centre himself even as he cradled his injured arm to his chest.

It did nothing to help – he still felt just as awful and worse yet the dreaded blackness rapidly closed in on him.

At last it pulled him under – a panicked cry from Elrohir was the last thing Legolas heard.

**~o~**

Elrohir stared at the unconscious Prince in alarm – he could see that he still breathed though it was shallow and rapid. Elrohir cursed he had paid so little attention to Legolas despite how pale and sickly the Prince looked. He should have seen this coming. He sighed in frustration and quickly tied off the last of Faervel's stiches before he washed his blood soaked hands with what little water he had left. After he checked that all Faervel's vitals were as good as they could be especially under the given circumstances – he stood up, ignored the cramp in his knees and move over to Legolas' inert form.

Elrohir pulled him into and upright position and cradled the blonde against him. The sound of low nickering and hooves on stone that reached him just then was music to his ears. Elladan was just in time.

His twin entered and Elrohir cut him off abruptly before he even spoke.

"Your arrival is timely Ladan. We must get them both to proper medical aid as soon as we can."

Elladan looked at the two inert _ellyn_ and his frantic brother before him and he felt a stab of guilt at having left Elrohir to deal with everything on his own. All because he could not face up to his own memories.

"I'm sorry to have left you so long Elro, I -"

"Never mind that and whatever imagined guilt you're feeling. I'm glad you've brought Arauca and Alarca. It would have been nigh on impossible to get these two down the mountains otherwise."

Elladan nodded as he watched his twin check over the blonde elf before Elrohir gave a low whistle at the sight of a particularly nasty looking shoulder wound. It was clearly badly infected.

"Please will you pass me my spare medical kit 'Dan? I will need to stabilise his shoulder before we can leave."

Elladan did as told. "Is there anything else you need me to help with now Elro?"

"Nay, I will simply clean and stitch the wound for now then we can be on our way. This is as much as we can do to aid them here."

"I will keep watch though it has been very quiet on the paths. Seems all the _yrch_ are asleep after all." Elladan could not resist ribbing his brother a little.

Elrohir threw him a quick smile and suck his tongue out before he resumed his work.

After a few moments Elladan looked over his shoulder at the afflicted _ellyn_ from where he stood guard at the cave mouth with their horses.

"I wonder what misfortune brought them here," Elladan mused aloud.

"I do not know," Elrohir replied. "I did not wish to pry but this one," Elrohir gave small gesture to blonde elf whose shoulder he currently worked on, "He is King Thranduil's son."

"Valar." Elladan breathed. He could not quite believe it. What on _Arda_ was the son of the reclusive King Thranduil doing all the way out here?

"That was also my reaction – I could not believe it myself. He said twas a long and twisted tale how they had come to be here." Elrohir lay Legolas down gently next to Faervel. "His name is Prince Legolas and this one is Lord Faervel."

"A tangled tale indeed," Elladan muttered as his twin stood back and wearily pushed his hair from his face.

"I have done all I can for them now – we must do our best to get them to _Adar_ for further help. We have no choice but to ride hard. I can only hope my stitches will hold against the rigours of riding on horseback."

Elrohir looked nearly spent and Elladan crossed the cave to put a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"I know you have done your best Elro and that is all anyone can ask. Come take a little rest and then we will be off."

Elrohir shook his head, "Nay Elladan let us go now – I am unsure still if Faervel will survive and I want to give him the best chance. Also King Thranduil must be frantic with worry by now – the sooner we get home the sooner we can send him word his son has been found."

"Ok – if you are sure."

Elladan was still sceptical. He knew Elrohir would have spent much healing energy and would be tired.

"Yes I am sure – let us make haste. I will be fine Ladan do not worry for me. Here you take Legolas and I will take Faervel – he will need a lot more medical attention."

Elladan nodded and the twins made quick work of packing up their belongings before they mounted each with their own unconscious charge. They started down the path, heading for the quickest route off the Mountains.

The lives of the two _ellyn_ hung in the balance and time was of the essence.

" _Noro_ Arauca _noro!"_

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naneth / Nana – Mother / Mamma (Mommy)
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Mellon-nin / Mellon - My friend / Friend
> 
> Nuitha – Stop, Do not continue
> 
> Yrch – (Plural of Orch) – Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Baw – No, Don't
> 
> Daro - Halt
> 
> Ellon/Ellyn – Male Elf/Elves
> 
> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Arauca - Elrohir's horse (Quenya) Swift
> 
> Alarca - Elladan's horse (Quenya) Agile
> 
> Nyérënehtar – (Quenya) Literally: Sorrow Slayer; Slayer of Sorrow Elladan's broad sword
> 
> Le fael – Literally: You are generous – Sindarin version of Thank you
> 
> Noro - Run


	27. Chapter 27

Thranduil was in a rare temper.

It had been a most trying morning that had started with him paying a visit to Legolas' stricken comrades – Hadril and Arasson – who had finally arrived back at the stronghold that morning and were ensconced within the healing ward. They remained unconscious and both looked in pretty bad shape but Calelon and his team of healers had assured Thranduil that both would eventually make full recoveries now that they had access to the proper medical care and attention they needed. He had spent some time in the healing ward looking over the two and he had chatted with and thanked their families who were at their bedsides.

He had then visited with Celegil briefly, pleased to see her awake, fully aware and ready to be discharged from the healer's care within the next two days. All in all he had left the healing ward feeling relieved that the warriors he had worried over for so long were all going to be ok. He wondered when he would be able to say the same for his errant son and his friend but Thranduil did his best not to let that sour his mood – he still held out hope that there would be word of the two soon.

So he had been in fine, hopeful spirits as he strolled toward the throne room to begin the day's work. His fair mood took a knock however as he saw the remainder of Legolas' troop waiting with their Mannish captives outside the gilded throne room doors.

Thranduil had taken a steadying breath before he snapped at two of the Home Guard, "Take those _edain_ to the dungeons. They can await the pleasure of my company there."

With the offending presence of the Men who had dared to harm his son removed – Thranduil had felt slightly better. His even temper was not to last however as he listened to the report from Legolas' second-in-command Aithel. Thranduil had grit his teeth and tapped out an absent minded rhythm on the arm of his throne as he listened to the tale and struggled to contain his anger at the trespassing _edain_ and the audacity of their crimes.

Then as Aithel had come to the end of her sorry tale there had been a knock on the great doors and Thranduil had had a hard time controlling his annoyance. He so hated to be interrupted when he was in session. Yet with his son still missing he found that he allowed these interruptions regardless of what he was in the middle of – hopeful that he might finally hear some good news regarding his vanished offspring.

"Come in," he'd barked as he tapped his jewelled fingers against his armrest ever harder.

A Captain of the Guard had entered the throne room and promptly dropped to her knees in a low bow.

"I beg your forgiveness for the interruption _Aran-nin_ but I have come to give the search report."

"Rise and report." Thranduil had forced himself to scowl less – he himself had given the order that a daily report on the progress of the search for his son be given him without delay. He could hardly fault the Captain for doing just that.

The news this morn was worse than that he'd had recently. Thranduil listened with growing ire and rapidly rising worry to the dismal report that the trail the trackers had been following up into the foothills of the Misty Mountains was quite lost.

Two days prior his trackers had come upon the remains of burnt bodies – presumably orc-ish with a rather small Woodland calling card. It was one the warriors recognised instantly and there had been a bloody message attached to it from Faervel that simply stated 'The Mountains'. It was vague but it had given Thranduil and the weary trackers hope and he had sent forth another six troops tasked with scouring the foothills and the mountains beyond. To be told now that the trail had gone cold – nay more than that – it had been washed away completely was nigh unbearable. If the trail was lost what hope had they of ever finding either Legolas or Faervel in the maze of caves and caverns that was the Misty Mountains?

Thranduil did his best to shake away the despair that desperately tried to latch onto him. He reminded himself that he would have known, would have felt it if Legolas was no more. He clutched at that thought and had been about to give his orders to the Captain when there was yet another loud knocking on his doors. Yet another hated interruption.

Thranduil could take no more and it was here that he now found himself – that last shaky grip he'd had on his temper crumbled and he gave in in to his rage. It was certainly easier to let fly his anger than try to keep up his ever failing hopes.

"Come!" He all but roared at whoever was unfortunate enough to be on the other side of the door.

A male warrior appeared and looked surprised at the crowd in the throne room before he hastily threw himself to his knees in a low bow.

"Rise and report."

"My apologies _Ara_ -"

Thranduil held up a hand, "Just report warrior – let us skip the apologies."

"Y-y-yes _A-Ar-Aran-nin_ "

Thranduil clutched at his throne's armrests. _Morgoth_ take whoever had sent such a nervous, stammering _ellon_ to give him a report.

Thranduil nodded and tried his hardest to remove the terrifying glower from his face as he looked at the _ellon_ expectantly. "Yes _maethor_? Your report?"

"S-sorry _Aran-nin_ Crown C-commander Aglardaer has a-a-arrived and wishes to know w-whether you want his pr-pri-prisoners brought here before y-you or in the d-dungeons?"

Thranduil nearly sighed in relief once the _ellon_ had finished – surely he wasn't that frightening.

"Have Commander Aglardaer send them to the dungeons with the others then he is to report to me. Then I want you to find Lord Arahaelon and tell him to summon the war council immediately." Thranduil raised a perfect eyebrow, "Understood _maethor_?"

The warrior bowed, "U-understood m-my Liege. Y-your wish i-is my command."

Thranduil nodded at him and resisted shaking his head as he watched as the nervy _ellon_ bumbled his way out of the room.

He turned to the Captain who had come to give the report on the search's progress, "Call back all the search parties and have all the Captains ready to report at the war council. The rest of the search party warriors are to await further instruction."

"Yes _Aran-nin_." The _elleth_ bowed and left to do as she had been bid.

Finally Thranduil was alone again with those of his son's troop who still stood before him. Aithel, Feren, Magoldir, Thoron and Camaendir. They all looked so weary, so worried and worn. Thranduil wished he had better news to share with them; wished he could tell them that their comrade and Captain were already here in the stronghold safe and sound.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "As you have heard both Legolas and Faervel remain missing and the trail has gone cold. I wish I had better news to give you all after all you have endured but you may all rest assured, everything in my power will be done to find them both. I can only thank you for your loyal service to the realm and for bringing your injured fellows home. You are all now dismissed." Thranduil offered them the smallest of smiles, "Go and return to your families. Let them worry over you no longer."

They bowed as one before they all looked at each other – none made a move to leave.

Thranduil sighed again and shook his head. "Nay you may not go on any of the search parties, you have all just returned and from great trauma at that. Besides I have just recalled them all. No - you are all on enforced leave until further notice. Take time for yourselves and recover from this – hopefully by then your missing comrade and your Captain will have been returned to you. I will hear nothing further on the subject."

Thranduil gave a wave of his hand and again Legolas' warriors bowed as one before actually taking their leave this time.

The doors closed softly behind them and Thranduil took the moment alone to just breathe and get his scattered thoughts together. His earlier anger had worn off for now though Thranduil knew it was not likely to last long. No doubt meeting with the war council and interrogating the captured men would rile him again.

He traced the intricate, swirling floral patterns etched into his armrests idly as he waited for Aglardaer to show up. His thoughts of course wondered as they were wont to do these days.

He thought about Legolas and Faervel – he really had no idea what to do about those two. If the best trackers in the realm had lost the trail then Thranduil really did not know what more could be done save sending out half his army to search the mountains. He only hoped that together with the war council he would be able to formulate a plan of rescue – and he desperately hoped that he would not be too late. He hoped Faervel and his son would be able to hold out a while longer. Thranduil also really hoped that they were together – that somehow Faervel had managed to find Legolas. He hated to think of either of them alone in those terrible mountains. He did not dare to let himself think of the worse fates that they might suffer in the mountains – he simply could not.

Thranduil got up, strolled over to one of his wide windows and stared out. He was not only worried for Legolas but now for his daughter and heiress as well. Rithel had left to do negotiations with Rohan for a new troop of horses but she should have been back by now. Granted she was only three days late but after what had happened with Legolas Thranduil could hardly manage to keep his worry in check. He had half a mind to send a troop out after her but he refrained. He could ill afford for the realm to realise just how worried, stressed and panicked their King had become. Not only that but Rithel would likely take great offense were Thranduil to send out a search party to escort her home. His daughter was fierce and strong; a Commander in his army no less – she would definitely not appreciate any such actions.

None of that could put a stop to his worrying though – no matter how old they got, how many centuries passed or what rank they had risen to and achieved – they would forever be his elflings. And right now he had no idea where either one was. Thranduil shook his head in despair before a short loud rap at the doors snapped him out of his brooding.

Thranduil took a deep, fortifying breath, smoothed his hair back and with the sheer force of will that had kept him going when Celeblassel had died he again sat upon his throne impassive mask firmly in place.

"Enter."

It was Aglardaer who did so and bowed, " _Aran-nin_."

Thranduil relaxed at tad at the sight of his friend, "Drop the formalities and give me the briefest form of your report _mellon-nin,_ for I have summoned the war council and we have a long day ahead."

**~o~**

Rithel trotted along upon the back of Agar at a leisurely pace. She rode at the head of the group of warriors that were with her – her own troop plus another. She cantered along with a smile on her face and a song on her lips as she and her warriors herded along the troop of twenty Rohan steeds she had been to purchase, completely unaware of the stress she had caused her _Adar_ due to her tardiness. The woods became clearer with every step they took and Rithel inhaled deeply – she was very much looking forward to being home amongst her trees again. The plains of Rohan were too open and had made her uneasy; she would be glad to be back under the cool canopy of the forest.

The forest gate was close now and Rithel decided to speed up their journey. She was sure that none of the _maethyr_ with her would mind – she was certain that they would all be glad to get home all the quicker.

She turned round to face her warriors, "What say you we give these horses another chance to stretch their legs?"

There was a round of murmured agreement and the silver haired princess grinned.

" _Noro hi_!" Rithel gave the command and she and her warriors broke into a wild gallop taking care to keep their newly purchased horses within a loose protective circle. The beasts had no problems keeping up with the pace they set and Rithel was pleased. She had taken her time in hand picking each one of the ten stallions and ten mares within this troop and was glad that her efforts were justified. They would breed these Rohan animals along with their own pure elvish steeds to produce the uniquely lithe and fast yet sturdy warhorses the Woodland realm was known for.

Rithel glanced back at the group that kept pace with her and she gave Agar a light tap to her hide as she urged the mare on even faster. Rithel smiled and laughed giddily at the feel of the wind upon her face and in her hair and at the rapidly approaching sight of her forest home. She felt as though she had not a care inArda at that very minute as they galloped across the sun-bathed plains.

**~o~**

Legolas slowly became aware of a lurching motion that seemed to rock him back and forth. There was also a soft, steady thumping sound and from that he managed to piece together (after some time) that he was on horseback. Legolas could also feel a warm firmness around him and after having put much thought into it realised that he was being held in a gentle embrace.

Legolas desperately searched his mind as he tried to remember the where, why and how of his current situation. When nothing came to mind he decided to open his eyes - an action which turned into a struggle but at last he managed it.

He could see out of the corner of his eyes wisps of silken black along with the blue boundless sky that whizzed by above him. The fact that he had opened his eyes seemed to make the lurching motion multiply and Legolas blanched as a wave of nausea swept over him.

A face appeared in his vision then; pale grey eyes set within stern features with a slight frown about the full pink lips. Legolas blinked owlishly as his brain struggled with whether he ought to feel panicked or not by this stranger.

"You are awake _Ernil_?"

The stranger above him shifted to tuck some of the loose black strands behind a pointed ear before he rested his hand on Legolas' brow and frowned.

"Still you burn with fever," the _ellon_ muttered irritably before he shifted again slightly as he fumbled with something to his side as he grumbled all the while.

Legolas remembered then with whom he was even if he did not know where he was exactly. Hot on the heels of this realisation came a sharp flare of panic for his friend as memories of the dreadful state in which he had last seen Faervel came back to him.

_Valar_ , Legolas cursed, how could he have allowed himself to pass out for so long when his friend was in such dire straits?

He made to sit up intent on seeing how Faervel fared but a sharp stab of pain sparked in his shoulder and he gave an involuntary gasp. The grey eyes of Elladan (he had figured from the _ellon_ 's less friendly aura that this was not Elrohir) snapped down to him immediately.

" _Baw_. You must remain still _mellon_ lest you aggravate your wounds any further. Here take these, they should help an-"

Whatever else Elladan was about to say was cut short as his twins' panicked cry came over to them.

"Ladan we must stop. Now. He…he loses far too much blood."

Legolas panicked at the cry and promptly ignored the warning Elladan had just given him and he gave a great groan as he forced himself into a sitting position, anxious for a look at Faervel.

"Easy," Elladan hissed at him as the twin wrapped strong arms around him helping him stay upright.

Elladan called out a few instructions to Elrohir but Legolas paid no heed to what was said. Instead all his focus was upon what he could see of Faervel's pale, prone frame as Elrohir brought his horse to a stop near a small copse of trees. His friend was laid down upon Elrohir's cloak with the utmost care but Legolas could not help but wonder whether this was the right course of action to take. Would they not be better off just pressing on ahead right now toward help? Surely stopping here now would just delay getting Faervel to the help he so desperately needed. Could Elrohir not just bind Faervel's wound tighter or redo his stitches and carry on?

Legolas opened his mouth to voice his concerns as Elladan lowered him gently to the ground but all thought of his protests vanished as a soft groan came from Faervel.

"Ah forgive me _mellon-nin_ , I'm sorry but your stitches have torn and you have lost quite a lot of blood."

Another soft groan was the only reply from Faervel to Elrohir's frantic words and Legolas immediately tried to get up and get closer to his friend only to find he had no strength for such a task.

A shaky gasp came from Faervel again and Legolas despaired, he was desperate to get closer to his friend and provide some comfort.

"Easy, just be still. I will help you." Elladan was there again, though his words were softer this time as he helped Legolas into a position where he and Faervel could see each other without Legolas being in Elrohir's way as he worked.

" _Hannon-le_ ," Legolas whispered the words at Elladan though he had eyes only for Faervel.

Legolas took his friend's hand with his good arm and gave a little squeeze that prompted a weak smile from Faervel as his dark haired friend focussed on him rather than on what Elrohir did to his wound.

Legolas returned the smile even as he pleaded within his mind for the _Valar_ to spare his dear friend's life.

**~o~**

Elrohir felt frantic, desperate and hopeless.

With one hand he applied pressure to Faervel's wounded stomach while he fumbled round for a needle with the other. Needle in hand Elrohir dared to move his other hand from where it applied steady pressure with a wadded up bandage and was dismayed to see the amount of crimson that welled up and leaked down Faervel's side. The stitches he had hoped would give Faervel a fighting chance had failed; torn apart by the vigorous pace they had set in desperation to save him. They were still a few miles away from the nearest source of help – a _Dunedain_ outpost based between the Trollshaws and Rivendell.

The hand that held the needle trembled as Elrohir scrutinized the wound before him. Blood pumped out in a steady flow through the once again opened parts of the injury - around the jagged, torn stitches and created a poppy red waterfall that washed over deathly pale skin. It was also obvious to Elrohir that Faervel was bleeding rather heavily internally. His entire stomach area was distended and grossly discoloured and Elrohir could hear the way Faervel struggled with his breathing which came in short pants.

He dropped the needle and instead reached for Faervel's free hand and put sensitive fingers to the thin wrist. The sluggish pulse he felt there confirmed his diagnosis and Elrohir closed his eyes tightly for a brief minute before he looked up at Faervel. Faervel however was completely focused on the Prince – Legolas - who again seemed to be chanting a prayer of some sort and was likewise completely focussed on his dark haired friend.

Elrohir's heart ached for them both – it was clear that they shared a strong bond – one that seemed as strong as the bond he shared with Elladan. His heart ached all the more at the comparison for he could not bear even the thought of losing Elladan like Legolas was about to lose Faervel.

Elrohir gently wiped at a trail of blood that had started to make its way from Faervel's lips down his pale cheek before he lightly rested his fingertips against his forehead and felt for the _ellon's fëa_. He held back a sad sigh. For Legolas _was_ going to lose his friend. Faervel's case was hopeless now – his _fëa_ hung onto this world by a mere thread. He would not survive the even the next hour and it was entirely pointless in Elrohir doing any further painful work on him.

Elrohir looked up again this time at Elladan – the other two still preoccupied with each other – and with one small, sorrowful shake of his head Elrohir confirmed Faervel's fate to his twin. He felt tears spring to eyes unbidden and hastily did his best to blink them away. Elrohir knew nothing of either _ellon_ before him save their names and titles but still he grieved. Grieved at what would be the loss of yet another elvish life at the hands of the _yrch_ ; grieved at the fact that despite his best efforts he had lost another precious life. Once again he had been unable to reverse the ruinous damage caused by the _glamhoth_.

Memories of another time with similar circumstances crowded his thoughts and threatened to overwhelm him when he felt the solid presence of his twin next to him. Elladan's hand was on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze and Elrohir took a deep breath before he focussed again on both Faervel and the golden haired Prince.

Elladan's movement had caused both to startle and bring their attention back to what was happening around and to them and both now looked up at Elrohir. A sliver of hope could still be seen in Legolas' eyes and Elrohir cursed himself for having to be the one who would crush it.

"I am sorry _mellyn-nin_ \- but…your wounds and blood loss are too great. I can do nothing more save offer you painkillers that will ease the pain of your passing." Elrohir bowed his head low and shook it sorrowfully, "I am so, so sorry, I have tried my very best but it will not be enough. I cannot save you."

**~o~**

"Wh-wha…what do you…what do you mean?" Legolas grasped Faervel's hand in a vice like grip as his mind struggled to process the meaning, the unwanted truth behind Elrohir's words.

Legolas stared at Elrohir whose face seemed to crumple at his stammered question. Legolas shook his head and tried again, for surely he had heard wrong?

"Surely," Legolas paused as he tried and failed to regain control of his composure, "Surely there must be something else we can try. Anything…anything at all…sur -"

"Las." Faervel interrupted his questioning of the ebony haired twin weakly. "Las please let it be. I can feel it myself. My _hröa_ is greatly weakened and my very _fëa_ fades. I'm afraid it is true, there is nothing more that can be done for me."

Legolas could only stare at his friend at a loss for words as he slowly processed the very thing he had prayed and hoped so hard against.

Faervel looked over at Elrohir and gave him a smile, " _Le athae mellon-nin_. I am thankful for the help you have given both me and my friend. Do not trouble yourself overmuch at my passing; you remain a skilled healer – my wounds would have overcome even the best in Arda."

Elrohir looked at him sorrowfully, "I only wish we could have gotten you to our _Adar_ in time – he would have succeeded where I have failed."

Faervel only smiled, "Do not beat yourself up. I thank you from the bottom of my heart." He stopped and coughed feebly and splattered blood onto pale lips before he continued, "If I can ask you one favour would you please move me to lay beneath one of those trees. I should like to be near the trees one last time."

Elrohir nodded solemnly and complied and he arranged Faervel comfortably to sit up against a young beech tree nearby.

Legolas let out a deep long sigh and Elladan understood what he wanted before Legolas even voiced it and he helped the Prince over to sit beside his friend. Faervel smirked at Legolas before he turned his attention to the twins once more.

"Thank you," then he smiled at Elrohir, "Even after all you have done for me we have not yet been introduced. My name is Faervel for the record."

"Your friend – Legolas - told us. My name is Elrohir and he," Elrohir pointed toward his twin, "is Elladan."

"Ah the twin Sons of Elrond. It is as I suspected – I have heard much about you both. I am honoured indeed," Faervel let himself fall until his head lay in Legolas' lap. "We were most fortunate to come upon you. Again – _mellyn-nin_ – _hannon le_ for all you have done."

Elrohir nodded numbly before, "Do you want any painkilling herbs Faervel?"

Faervel coughed weakly before he replied, "Nay I am fine here."

Elrohir nodded at him and Elladan unclasped his cloak and covered Faervel, who had started to shiver slightly, before he moved off to comfort a clearly distraught Elrohir who now stood over by their horses.

Faervel smiled up into Legolas' frowning face and the Prince wiped gently at his friends blood splattered lips.

Legolas then moved his good hand to stroke through his friend's jet black, silky locks. He stared down at his friend sorrowfully unsure how Faervel could still smile even when he knew what was to come. How could his friend still have that carefree grin upon his lips when Legolas' very heart was breaking? How could he look so serene when all Legolas wanted to do was break down and weep in despair at the loss of yet another loved one.

"Sing to me Las – ever have you had the sweetest voice."

Legolas stared uncomprehendingly at Faervel and at last his tears fell freely. It was so unfair – Faervel had done nothing wrong save come after him – to try and save him, to try and bring him back home again. It was not fair that he would never return to the Wood.

Faervel shakily reached up and gently tapped on Legolas' cheek to catch his attention which had begun to spiral downward into despair and Legolas looked down again.

"I know I have said this already but," Faervel paused as a cough shook him, "but…I say it again – I am truly sorry for not telling you that I was your bodyguard Las. I was asked to keep quiet on the whole affair. Believe me – it was never my intent to hurt you." Faervel finished with another choking cough.

"Hush _mellon-nin_ – do not continue to strain yourself with our silly argument. I know you would never have done anything to hurt me."

Faervel rolled his eyes and gave him a wry grin, "Yes – save dropping you right into the hands of those _m_ _ô_ _r-edain_. I am sorry for that too – I should have held onto you tighter. I should never have let go of you."

Legolas wiped at his tears and cocked a questioning eyebrow at his friend.

"Do you not remember? When the spider nearly threw you from the tree? I caught you only to let you go again when you screamed because I had you by your bad shoulder." Faervel sighed, "I dropped you right into those Men's hands. Had I been stronger.."

Legolas placed a hand gently over Faervel's mouth. "Do not," he whispered, "do not dare blame yourself for any of this. Evil will always find its way."

"Still – I just wanted you to know I was sorry for that." Faervel finished softly as he closed his eyes as another coughing fit took him.

Legolas panicked at the sight of Faervel's closed eyes and he hurriedly moved his hand to his friend's neck to feel for a pulse. He was beyond relieved to find one still there – although it was weak and fluttered in an alarming way. Faervel coughed some more before he looked back up at his Prince.

"I'm still here," he wheezed, "Do not despair just yet. Or indeed do not despair at all."

Faervel paused so he could look directly into Legolas' eyes. "Please Las, promise me you will go on with the Sons of Elrond and get better and return to the Wood once you are hale again; return to our troop and your _Adar._ You do not wish for me to take on any guilt for what has happened and the way things have turned out and so you must not either."

Legolas cradled Faervel as his tears began to flow again – this was not fair. Faervel should not be lying here at death's door before him.

"Do not cry for those who still live Las," Faervel reached up a hand that trembled and gave a weak swipe at his friend's tears. "Do not give in to despair…promise me – remember me with fondness and go on and be happy. My death is not your fault."

"B-but I-I am your Captain – it is my duty to protect my troops. I have failed you. I am so, so sorry."

Faervel remained unmoved at Legolas words and simply continued to stare up into the watery blue orbs. "My death is _not_ your fault Legolas – you have nothing to be sorry for."

"What…what will I tell your _Naneth._ You are all she has left on Arda. How can I tell her that I have failed once more as a Captain and cost her only son his life?"

Legolas was distraught now and he cradled Faervel closer to him as he cried all the harder despite Faervel's command to stop. He could not believe that he would have to perform that dread duty once more – informing the kin of his warrior that they had died in action. He had already performed the unenviable task twice before and he had vowed to himself never to do it again. He had promised himself he would do his utmost and never lose another warrior under his command ever again. Yet he was once more about to lose not just a warrior but one of his lifelong best friends. It hurt. It hurt too much and he threw his head back up against the tree and looked up into the thick green foliage as he sobbed.

"Simply tell her I died doing my duty Las – tell her I died doing my duty and with a smile on my face. She will see me again one day." Faervel gave another great hacking cough that shook his entire body and a thin trail of blood wound its way down his smooth, pale cheek from his lips.

"Cry for me no more Las – I would not have that be my last memory of you here on Arda. Sing to me. Sing _Ego Annûn*_ for me. I would love to hear your lovely voice in song one more time."

Legolas looked back down at Faervel and sniffed before he wiped at his eyes. If Faervel wanted to hear him sing once more before he died then Legolas would oblige. It was the least – and the only thing he could do for his friend now.

Legolas bent to place a soft kiss on his friend's brow, "As you wish it _mellon-nin_."

It was a favourite song of theirs – one all _Nana's_ of the Woodland realm sang to their elflings. It was one that the warriors sang when they felt homesick and in need of comfort and a reminder of better times. Legolas wiped at the thin streak of blood on his friend's face, took hold of Faervel's hand, fixed his eyes upon the blue horizon and then he began. Legolas raised his voice so that it rung clear and true across the clearing and sang - hopeful he would now bring comfort to his friend.

_Lay down_

_Your sweet and weary head_

_Night is falling_

_Sleep now_

Legolas began the second verse of the song; voice strong despite the grief he felt and he was surprised to hear both Elladan and Elrohir join in, their voices blended seamlessly with Legolas' and created a smooth and beautiful harmony. The twins came slightly closer and Faervel smiled and began to mouth the words himself as his eyes slowly slipped shut and his grip on Legolas' hand grew weaker.

_Soon you will see_

_All of your fears will pass away_

_Safe in my arms_

_You're only sleeping_

Legolas felt as Faervel's hand within his grew lax, felt when the subtle movements of his friend's laboured breathing ceased.

Still he sang along with the twins – finished the song right to the very end of the third and final verse – determined to fulfil Faervel's last wish.

_You and I will meet again_

_And you'll be here in my arms_

_Just sleeping_

Legolas finally looked down at Faervel as the words and melody of the song faded away.

Faervel was quite still, eyes closed with a small smile upon his lips.

He was gone.

Elrohir began to silently shake again with grief ridden sobs – sorry that he could not have done anything more – anything at all to save this elf. Elladan held onto his twin even as he held back his own tears and tried to master his own grief at seeing another life that should never have ended snuffed out at the hands of his greatest enemy.

Legolas neither saw nor heard any of the twin's actions for he looked down upon his friend's pale, still smiling face and felt his heart completely shatter.

Faervel was gone.

Faervel was gone.

Faervel was gone and he was never, ever going to come back.

Faervel was gone.

Faervel – his beloved, dear, centuries long friend was dead – and it was all _his_ fault. Legolas had failed him; failed him as a Captain but worse still failed him as a friend.

Legolas threw back his head and howled his pain as deepest grief descended upon him.

Faervel was dead and Legolas was utterly broken.

Faervel had said to go on, get well and be happy but Legolas' was devasted, heart broken, crushed and he was sure he would never be well again.

For Faervel – his happy, sweet, mother hen of a friend – was no more.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Aran-nin – My King
> 
> Ellon – Male elf
> 
> Maethor / Maethyr – Warrior / Warriors
> 
> Elleth - Female elf
> 
> Mellon / Mellon-nin / Mellyn-nin – Friend / My Friend / My Friends
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Noro hi – Run now
> 
> Ernil - Prince
> 
> Baw – No, Don't
> 
> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Yrch – (Plural of Orch) – Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Glamhoth – Din horde; yelling horde- Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Hröa – Body
> 
> Le athae – Literally: You are/were helpful/kind - Sindarin version of Thank you
> 
> Môr-edain – Dark (Evil) Men
> 
> Naneth - Mother
> 
> Horses:
> 
> Agar – Rithel's horse - (Sindarin) Glitter
> 
> * Lyrics are from the song Into the West by Karliene. The title has been very loosely translated into Sindarin to give the name of the song Faervel asked for - Ego Annûn.
> 
> A/N: Apologies for the delay in updating but this chapter refused to be written. I make no promises but I will try not to leave it so long between updates again.
> 
> Much thanks and praise to my beloved beta Karleen who really helped with this chapter.
> 
> P.S – Don't hate me too much xx


	28. Chapter 28

A sharp wrenching pain in her heart caused Lady Ìdhes to jerk to a halt in her work of re-stocking the apothecary. The initial soul piercing pain passed in a flash and left behind a sore throbbing feeling. With a slight tremble Ìdhes put down the chamomile plants in her hands and quietly stepped out of the enclosed space as she carefully prodded the hurt within her chest. For Lady Ìdhes had felt a pain like this once before - centuries ago; and the knowledge was enough to make her tremble even harder and she had to take a deep, fortifying breath to stop her from screaming her anguish aloud.

Ìdhes just about managed to keep her face neutral as she walked calmly and quickly out of the apothecary, out of the healing ward and into the Halls beyond. She paid no heed to voice of Calelon nor that of his apprentice when they called out to her as she continued to walk briskly.

Ìdhes _knew_ what the pain in her heart was – much as she wished she were wrong she knew she was not; and so she continued to walk, swiftly traversing up to the higher levels of the stronghold.

She blinked backed the tears that threatened to fall.

She needed to keep a hold of herself, and more than that she needed to see the King.

**~o~**

Thranduil stalked down the corridor toward the chambers where he knew the war council awaited him. Aglardaer's report had done nothing for his mood. He was positively seething at the way those _edain_ had seen fit to completely take over the main village of the Woodsmen. He agreed with Aglardaer completely – it was high time they installed patrols in that area of the Wood. It was one of the things on his lengthy agenda for the war council.

Thranduil turned the corner, anger in every step whilst Aglardaer walked placidly alongside him. His friend's calm only served to irritate Thranduil further – Aglardaer had always been the serene one betwixt them.

A soft voice interrupted his internal tirade.

" _Mae govannen Aran-nin_."

Thranduil looked up to see Lady Ìdhes bowed low before him.

" _Mae govannen Hiril-nin_ \- be at ease."

Thranduil was about to excuse himself as he was in somewhat of a hurry to get to the council when he notice the sorrow present in Lady Ìdhes' eyes. The soulful, brown orbs were also suspiciously damp and any words of excuse died on the King's lips and he drew nearer to her.

"Does something ail you _Hiril_ Ìdhes?"

The normally unflappable, cheery healer took a deep breath, "I was looking for you _Aran-nin_ – I would have a word if you could spare me a minute."

Thranduil nodded to her, "Of course – go on ahead Commander – I will meet you there."

Aglardaer nodded and continued on his way whilst Thranduil led Lady Ìdhes into a small unoccupied office.

"Speak freely _Hiril-nin_ – what troubles you?"

Lady Ìdhes looked down at her feet before she looked up at Thranduil, an anguished look on her face.

"It…It is Faervel my Liege. He…well…he is gone."

**~o~**

Lady Ìdhes, much to her horror, began to weep uncontrollably before the King. Having spoken the words out loud it was all suddenly so very real.

Faervel was gone; her beloved baby boy, her deeply cherished son – gone.

She felt Thranduil gently lead her to sit in a plush armchair and she did her best to bring her emotions back under control as she wiped at her eyes with a stray bit of gauze from one of her pockets. She took another deep breath as she willed away more tears and at last looked up into her King's concerned face.

"I am so sorry to ask _Hiril-nin_ but are you certain? Are you sure…,"the King struggled. "Are you sure he is…are you sure he is no more?"

Ìdhes bit her lip to stave off further tears and sadly nodded her head. She clutched at her heart and looked up into the King's kind yet worried eyes, "I am sure."

Oh yes she was most definitely sure - there was no mistaking the pain she had felt and indeed was still feeling. For she had suffered through it once before when her dear husband had passed into _Mandos'_ keeping. She took another deep shuddery breath – as the reality of what had happened began to sink in. Not only was she a widow but she was now bereft of her only child as well. She was now alone in this world. Faervel had been all the family she had had left in Arda– her husband had passed nigh on eight centuries ago and the rest of his family long sailed. Her own family she had left behind in Imlardris when she had met and fallen in love with Mallosson though they too had all slowly but surely sailed over the centuries.

She had never felt lonely however – Faervel was a bright spark and lit up her life with his enthusiasm and un-ending cheer. He alone had kept her from falling to grief and despair when Mallosson had died. Now though – she was alone – she was without comfort. She clutched at her heart tighter, how was she supposed to carry on this time?

Ìdhes started as she realised that the King had spoken to her and she had not heard a word.

"I beg your pardon _Aran-nin_ I did not hear you."

Thranduil gave her a small smile, "Is there any one you wish me to call for you? Or anything at all that you would like me to do?"

Ìdhes shook her head sadly – there was no family left to call and she did not feel like bothering any of her friends with her despair quite yet.

As for whether the King could do anything for her – well she would love him to bring home Faervel's body – so that at least she might know where his final resting place was. So that he might be laid to rest with the full honours and ceremony that was due to him. She wanted his body to cry and weep over; she did not want to think of him out there – _Eru_ only knew where – untended and unloved. Ìdhes did not want him to be just another corpse fallen by the wayside. Faervel had been – nay was – her son.

It would be unfair of her though to put that burden on the King; after all he had more than sixty _maethyr_ out looking for Faervel and Legolas and nothing had been found as yet. There was not much more she could ask him to do really.

"There is no one I would trouble with the news just now _Aran-nin_ – all I need is the rest of the day off please. I would just like some time to myself right now."

"Of course my Lady – take however long you need."

The King looked Ìdhes in the eyes, "Please know my door is open to you whatever you should need. I will try my best to bring him back for you _Hiril_ Ìdhes. I don't know how but I _will_ try and you can rest assured whether I succeed or fail in that endeavour Faervel's life will be celebrated and he will be awarded all the honours he is due."

The King paused, pulled out a beautiful, silk handkerchief and handed it to Ìdhes whose tears had started up once more.

"I am so very sorry for your loss _Hiril-nin. Hiro hîdh nen gurth_ Faervel."

" _L-le fael Aran-nin,_ " Ìdhes brought the monogrammed handkerchief to her face as she tried desperately to quiet her sobs in front of her King.

She was surprised when the King put a comforting arm around her and the unexpected kindness finally threw her completely over the edge and she wept aloud.

Ai my beautiful son, she thought disconsolately, _savo hîdh nen gurth_.

**~o~**

Blacwin sighed long and deep as one the men he had been imprisoned with rattled the bars of their prison in yet another futile attempt at testing it for any weak spots. He had no idea what the metal was made of but Blacwin knew it was strong stuff – rattling it would make not even the smallest bit of difference to their plight save give them all a headache. He really did not need that. He would prefer to have a clear head for when they were inevitably hauled in front of the elves and their King.

Blacwin shuddered involuntarily as he again cursed his stupidity for going along with this thoroughly dim-witted plan of Aldred's. Aldred who had completely and utterly abandoned them to their fate – bastard.

But, Blacwin reflected, it was his own fault; because seriously – what had he been thinking?

There was a reason why there were no elven slaves available on the markets and _this_ was it – they were nigh impossible to catch and pursuit of them often led to death.

Blacwin clutched at his leg which still throbbed terribly – he had had no chance to stop and tend it ever since he had been captured and his elven captors had been uncaring of his plight. Still – since they had been brought here they had not been whipped nor beaten – they had been offered water and some weird kind of elvish bread before they had been put into the cells unbound. One could say the elves had even been kind to them.

Blacwin sighed again as another one of the men in the next cell over joined in with the irritating rattling. All he could do now was hope and pray the leniency of the elves would last when he and the rest of his men were brought before the mighty elven King.

**~o~**

The doors to the chamber where the war council waited swung open to reveal a stone faced Thranduil. He seated himself and after a quick look to see everyone (save his daughter Commander Rithel) was there he nodded and began.

"There has been some news and it is not good," Thranduil got straight to the point. "Lord Faervel has sadly died."

There was an outbreak of shocked gasps and murmurs before Lord Arahaelon spoke up.

"Are… are you quite sure _Aran-nin?_ "

"Yes. I have just come from an audience with Lady Ìdhes and she is sure. As most you in this room are well aware the pain caused by a bond with a family member being broken can be mistaken for none other. I'm afraid it is certain, Lord Faervel has passed into the keeping of _Mandos_."

Thranduil looked up at his councillors, commanders, advisors and the Captains of the search parties. "This makes it all the more urgent that we pick up the trail again – I would have Lord Faervel's body brought back home to us if at all possible. He was a great warrior of the realm and it is the least we could do for both him and Lady Ìdhes. So Captains – let us review now everything your search parties found; we must do our best to pick up this trail and recover Lord Faervel's body and rescue the Prince."

Thranduil gestured for the first Captain to come forward – this was his priority at the moment. They simply had to pick up that trail again; Thranduil would never admit it but he was scared. Faervel had not even been the one taken captive – he had left of his own free will and yet… well he was dead. What hope for his own son?

Thranduil gingerly tested the bond between him and Legolas as the first Captain introduced himself to the council – it was not as clear as usual, as though something blocked it. Yet the bond was still there, still intact and for that Thranduil was immensely grateful. He had tried to comfort Lady Ìdhes though he knew there was no comfort for such a bitter blow and Thranduil thought she had handled herself admirably. He knew for a fact that he would be a wreck, utterly devastated were the same fate to meet Legolas.

Thranduil shook the thought off and wrenched his attention to the Captain before him – he could not worry about what ifs now – his bond with Legolas was still in place and he would have to be satisfied with that. Right now he needed to focus and help come up with a plan to get his precious son back before it was too late for Legolas as well.

**~o~**

"Single file."

Rithel sat upon Agar who stood over to the side of the enchanted marble bridge leading into the stronghold and she watched the newly acquired horses as they were guided over the bridge and in toward the stronghold's stables by her _maethyr_.

Satisfied Rithel joined the back of the queue and crossed over herself eager to get the new horses settled down, cleaned and bedded into the stables. The sooner they got used to their new home and masters the better. She was already formulating a plan in her mind as to who she would assign to train each horse until it was time to breed them when the Princess heard someone shout out her name.

Rithel turned to see a young page had run up to her. The young _ellon_ dipped into a low bow before he looked up and spoke again.

" _Mae govannen Riel_. Please will you come with me – I have been ordered to stand watch for you and fetch you to the King as soon as is possible."

"Oh," Rithel was confused as to why her _Adar_ would have such urgent need of her. "Did the King say why he needed to see me so urgently?"

"Nay – only that I was to fetch you in to him as soon as you arrived. He is in with the War Council now, but they have only just convened so I am sure if we hurry you will not have missed anything."

"Of course," Rithel handed Agar over to a stable hand that had appeared seemingly out of thin air and quickened her steps to catch up to the page ahead of her.

"Have you been watching for me long?" the Princess enquired as she still pondered over the urgent summons.

"I have been watching for you for the past two days _Riel-nin_ ," the page flashed her a dimpled smile, "not too long at all but the King was adamant that you see him as soon as you arrived."

The young _ellon_ looked down almost apologetically, "I am sorry if you wished to change but I dare not make the King wait."

Rithel chuckled at the seriousness of the page, "A bath would be lovely indeed but I had best attend to the King – one does not ever keep a King waiting."

The page gave a small, firm nod of agreement before he upped his pace all the more. Rithel gave a wry grin and hustled to keep up with him.

At their pace 'twas not long before they reached the chamber doors where the Council was being held and the page announced her to the War Council. Rithel stepped into the room and quickly dropped to a bow as she greeted her _Adar._ Her _Adar_ who had an odd look of…of…was it relief in his eyes? How strange. How she wished that they were alone so she could finally find out the reason for all this odd behaviour.

Rithel sat down daintily in her chair after apologising to the Council for the interruption and her _Adar_ gestured wearily toward the e _llon_ that had been speaking prior to her appearance.

"Captain if you will - please bring _Riel_ Rithel up to speed."

The Captain that had been interrupted nodded to his King and continued but Rithel paid little attention as she surreptitiously watched her _Adar_ from under her lashes as Bôr poured her a drink.

Her _Adar_ looked weary – there was an air of exhaustion about him that she could not understand. Clearly he was under some strain – something big had happened. But what?

Before she could ponder the mystery further the words of the speaking Captain finally caught her attention and she very nearly choked on her newly acquired drink.

"…so that we can find _Ernil_ Legolas before _Mandos_ claims him too."

"What?!"

**~o~**

Legolas stared ahead despondently at the blue afternoon sky. He swayed gently from side to side as he rode along with Elrohir. He rode with the Peredhil twin now in case he needed medical attention. Faervel on the other hand…

Faervel had been tenderly wrapped and was now a sad bundle carried by Elladan's horse on a small makeshift litter. Legolas could not bring himself to look. He sighed and instead stared down at Elrohir's gentle hand wrapped securely around his middle. He felt as though he were in some terrible nightmare – one that showed no signs of ending anytime soon. He simply could not believe that this was it. That Faervel who had always been at his side and shared in all his adventures and mishaps was never going to be there with his easy-going smile ever again. The thought brought yet more tears to Legolas' already red, cry-sore eyes and he blinked rapidly to try and clear them away. His head hurt terribly and he had cried so much already he was surprised that he could still produce tears.

He gave a small sniff and directed his gaze upwards again – maybe if he went back to staring uninterestedly at the sky it would help take his mind off the gigantic Faervel-shaped hole in his heart.

They rode on quietly for some time when a dark smudge in the distance caught Legolas' eye.

He blinked and stared at it hard as he tried to bring the smudge into focus. He should have been able to see it clearly from this distance but he struggled. He wiped at his eyes and blinked again but it was still no use – the smudge stubbornly refused to take on any discernible shape and Legolas gave another sigh. Perhaps his current poor vision was due to the fact that his head ached dreadfully, he mused unhappily. Or perhaps it was due to this fever that both Elrohir and Elladan seemed so concerned about.

Either way, Legolas found it hard to care very much and he turned his gaze upwards to the pale blue sky once more.

**~o~**

The feeling of several foreign presences saw Legolas jerk out of the light doze he had been unaware of having slipped into. He was alert nearly instantly as he bolted upright before he slumped back down again as hot, sharp pain emanating from his shoulder tore through his entire left side and he gasped aloud.

"Easy Legolas – we are nearly there – we will be able to get you more pain relief once we arrive," Elrohir murmured soothingly as he secured his grip on Legolas.

It took Legolas a while to respond as he clutched at his injured shoulder whilst he regained his breath, "Wh-where is there? Where are we…where are you taking me?"

Legolas struggled and wriggled as he tried to sit up fully once more but Elrohir's hand kept him firmly in place.

"Please Legolas _mellon-nin_ , try to keep still – we are going to a Ranger village – a small outpost. We are very close now. I think it is best if we stop there for the night – I really would like your fever to break and we have run out of the necessary herbs. I can have another look at your shoulder as well." Elrohir had both hands round him now in an attempt to keep the Prince still.

"R-rangers?" Legolas asked as he paused in his squirming and instead felt for and focussed on the presences that had woken him up. He stiffened as he felt them again, yes – they were definitely Mannish and there were quite a few of them.

"You know – Rangers of the North, the _Dunedain_?" prodded Elladan gently.

"Rangers?" Legolas asked again as he felt something akin to dread wash over him as he remembered cold, hateful grey eyes, a mocking voice that spoke perfect Sindarin and horrid, rough hands that inflicted sly but terrible wounds.

He sat bolt upright, easily ignored his body's protests and Elrohir's gently restraining hands and stared ahead of him in horror. The earlier smudge in the distance had morphed into this Ranger village that Legolas could see more and more clearly through the trees with each step the horses took.

"No," Legolas shook his head and heaved himself up straighter still despite his pain.

"Legolas please you mu-"

"Nay – I will not go there," Legolas was adamant and bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain as he tried to manoeuvre himself off Elrohir's horse.

"Legolas where are you going?" Elrohir struggled to keep his grip on the Prince surprised at how much strength Legolas had suddenly mustered.

"Nay -ahh." Legolas gasped as he at last slipped free from Elrohir and stumbled to the ground.

Elrohir and Elladan were up and off their horses instantly.

" _Valar_ Legolas what are you trying to do?" Elladan demanded whilst Elrohir began to fuss and check him over.

"Please let me have a look," Elrohir pleaded with Legolas who fended off his attentions with a wave of his good arm.

"Is it the fever Elro that makes him act this way?" Elladan questioned his brother in a concerned voice as he tried to get closer to the agitated Legolas.

"I'm unsure – he was ok not too long ago and I am sure he has no concussion," was Elrohir's confused reply.

Legolas scowled, "Do not speak of me as if I were not here or some weak minded invalid. I am perfectly sane and in my right mind fever or no."

"Then why on _Arda_ have you leapt from Elrohir's horse?" Elladan sounded frustrated.

"I refuse to go to any _edain_ village, least of all one solely occupied by Rangers of the North," Legolas spat blue eyes flashing.

In truth Legolas was terrified of going to the Ranger village. Though he knew in his heart it was highly unlikely that the evil man that had so tormented him would be there he could not convince his mind of that fact. Nay, Legolas would rather take his chances in continuing onwards – regardless of any pain he was in or any risks to his health.

Men had brought him to this point and he was very weary of going anywhere near them now. No that was not true - he was downright scared of going anywhere near them. Legolas knew it was a ridiculous fear – almost laughable that he King Thranduil's son, Captain of an Elite Guard was scared of mere Men. It was unpalatable truth but it _was_ the truth none the less; one he'd rather not admit and so Legolas switched to the defensive and hoped his anger and sheer stubbornness would keep the Sons of Elrond from looking any deeper.

Legolas certainly hoped it would stop them from taking him any closer to the _edain_ village than he already was.

"I do not need the help of any Rangersand I will not go to that village."

**~o~**

Elladan glanced over to his twin to see his concern mirrored right back at him. He knew Thranduil's people were an isolated bunch who did not mix with outsiders and held everything and everyone un-elvish in contempt, but he had not expected their disdain and mistrust to run quite so deep. Elladan had not thought that when presented with desperately needed help the Wood elves would turn it down purely because the help came from another race. Then again this was Thranduil's very son – the _ellon_ had been exposed to his _Adar's_ rhetoric for all of his life no doubt.

He sighed and inched closer to Legolas as he pondered how he could get the tense, wary and grief stricken blonde in front of him to trust that he had nothing to fear from the village – even if it were occupied by _edain_ as Legolas had so disdainfully put it. Elladan wondered though at the particular dislike to Rangers - Legolas had said the name as one would a particularly foul curse.

"We will be with you at all times Legolas," Elladan tried, "We do not intend to abandon you once we get to the village."

"And the people of the village are _good_ people," Elrohir interjected, "They will bring you no harm nor treat you oddly – the _Dunedain_ are used to dealing with the _Eldar._ "

"I do not care," Legolas inched further away from them both and Elladan ground his teeth in frustration.

"You need the help Legolas – we have run out of the herbs Elro needs to aid you. We will be able to get them at the village easily, treat you and carry on to our home where our _Adar_ can tend you further."

"Imlardris?" Legolas ceased in his small movements away from them.

"Yes to get you to our home and our _Adar_ is our intention – we will not stay long in this village." Elladan hoped that they had finally gotten through to the blonde.

Legolas bit his lip and seemed to be wrestling with himself over something before he spoke again. "I would really rather not deal with any _edain."_

Elrohir knelt and put a comforting hand on Legolas' good shoulder which the Prince glanced at warily. "You do not have to interact with anyone there. We will be with you and if it is the language barrier that worries you we can translate if need be."

"I am a Prince - I speak perfect Westron," Legolas sniped as he gave them both a reproachful glare and shrugged off Elrohir's hand.

"So then what exactly is your reason for refusing help that you so desperately need?"

Elladan knew his question had come out far more forcefully than he had intended when Elrohir elbowed him in the ribs, but the blonde's stubbornness was really beginning to annoy him.

"I do not need any help from the _Dunedain_ ," Legolas ground out before he held his head in his hands and sighed. "Can we not just go to Imlardris and skip this village? I will be fine until we get there… please," the Prince looked up at them both with weary eyes. "I do not want any Men to tend me nor touch me."

"And they needn't Legolas," Elrohir tried again to succour the Prince, "I will be the one tending you – the Rangers will only provide the medicines, tools and the room that will allow me to do so with minimum hurt to you. You will also be able to rest for a bit in a comfortable bed and have something to eat."

Legolas looked appalled at the very thought that he would have to eat Mannish food and Elladan quickly stepped in to try a different tact with the mulish Prince.

"Whilst we are there we will also be able to send a carrier pigeon to let King Thranduil know you are with friends and are safe. Surely he will be worried by now?"

Legolas began to wring his hands at the mention of his father and bit down on his lip even harder. So hard in fact that he drew blood which slowly dribbled down his chin.

"I…I… _Adar…_ " Legolas mumbled he clutched at his dirty, blood streaked hair and began to pull hard on it. " _A-Adar_ will…I…I…don't know," he glanced at the nearby village and pulled all the harder on his hair. "…I don't want to…urgh."

Elladan cursed himself – he had not intended to cause Legolas so much distress. He had merely thought that the thought of sending word back to his _Adar_ would get the Prince to put aside his prejudices and go to the village without further fuss. He hadn't expected the Prince to get so upset and he moved closer anxious to correct his mistake.

"I'm sorry Legolas I did not mean to say anything to upset you – just please, please trust us. We mean you no harm and only want to help – staying at the village is the best choice right now."

"No! No, no, no, no," Legolas continued to tug on his hair in distress. "I cannot… I cannot even be near them – no!"

Legolas was getting more and more frantic and Elladan was lost, he had no idea how to calm the blonde and looked toward Elrohir helplessly.

" _Sîdh_ Legolas, agitate yourself no more," Elladan watched his brother close the distance between himself and Legolas and embrace the Prince in a gentle hug. "We will do as you please. We will skip going to the _Dunedain_ village. We will make camp here tonight and tomorrow make all haste for Imlardris. Ok _mellon-nin_?"

Elladan watched as the Prince first tensed then struggled within his twin's embrace.

"No, no, I will not…"

Elrohir struggled keep Legolas still and winced as one of Legolas' elbows caught him in the face. Injured or not ill or not it was clear the Prince still had some strength left and with a deep breath Elladan decided to act once more and help his brother. He only hoped that this time his choice would be the right one and that he would provide help rather than cause anguish.

Elladan reached out and gently caught hold of the blonde's hands and eased them out of his tangled hair. The Peredhil twin held the cold, cut hands within his own and rubbed slowly and methodically as he tried to get some warmth into them again. The action caught the Prince's attention and he slowly ceased his wild struggling and murmuring and finally seemed to come back to himself.

Elladan looked into red-rimmed watery eyes and gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Worry yourself no more about the _edain_ Legolas – we will remain here tonight and you are safe with us."

**~o~**

Legolas looked into Elladan's soulful grey eyes and nodded tiredly. He was still wary though and sat tense and rigid within Elrohir's arms. They had been so adamant about going to the village – would they truly let him have his way now? Had his stubbornness actually won out? Legolas was unsure and he sat perfectly still and quiet as he watched as Elladan began to prepare a camp around them.

Elrohir didn't move either – he seemed content to let Legolas remain in his lap whilst his twin set up camp around them. Elrohir instead busied himself by starting up a silly tale and trying to gently de-tangle Legolas' dishevelled hair – a pointless task in the Prince's opinion.

He knew that Elrohir was trying to help him be more at ease but Legolas found it hard to relax – still anxious over the too close presence of the _Dunedain_ village. He was also deeply grieved at the thought of Faervel's cold body lying only a few feet away from him. He still could not bring himself to look – he knew to look upon that sight would break his heart all over again.

Not only that but his entire body hurt far too much for him to be able to find any form of rest though he dared not let it show to either of the Sons of Elrond. It seemed as if they would be true to their word and not force him to go to the village. Yet Legolas did not want to risk them seeing the pain he was in and deciding that it would be best for him to go to the Ranger village after all.

It was proving rather difficult though to mask his pain – his leg throbbed fiercely as his already injured ankle had been jarred in his fall from Elrohir's horse. His shoulder was also another cause of agony that stabbed through his entire left side in time with his heartbeat. The bump on the back of his head hurt as well and Legolas could tell Elrohir was being careful to avoid touching it as he ran his fingers through his golden hair. The numerous small cuts and scrapes on his palms stung now that his hands had had warmth and life rubbed back into them. To top it all off the Prince found that his vision was getting blurrier by the second.

Legolas blinked rapidly a few times to try and clear his eyes and focus his mind but found that it made no difference. Dark spots began to dance before his eyes and though Legolas struggled against them he was no match for the dark blanket that they morphed into before they dragged him into oblivion.

**~o~**

Elrohir started as the previously tense and ram-rod straight Prince suddenly crumpled against him.

"Legolas?" Elrohir tipped back the Prince's head and was dismayed to see that as he suspected Legolas was indeed unconscious.

"Dan? Legolas has passed out again - what do you think?" Elrohir bit his lip worriedly as he felt Legolas' temperature – it had not abated in the slightest.

Elladan came and knelt next to his twin, a deep frown on his face, "It is worrying the way he keeps slipping from consciousness to unconsciousness. And I take it his fever remains unchanged?"

Elrohir nodded.

"Then I really do think we should take him to the village – now - whilst he is unaware."

"But we can't do that Ladan," Elrohir gave his brother an apprehensive look, "We told him we would not take him there. _You_ said that he would be safe _here_ with us. Can you imagine the fit he will throw if he awakens to find we have taken him to the _Dunedain_ village after all? Besides I don't like breaking my word."

Elladan huffed and rolled his eyes at his brother's reluctance. "Yes I imagine he will be rather angry but so what? What is that compared to his health? It is quite worrying the way he slips between the realms of consciousness and unconsciousness so suddenly. He has done it a number of times now, we really ought to look into it and our best chance of aiding him at the moment is to go to the village."

Elrohir fidgeted slightly and continued to bite his lip as he wrestled with logic, breaking his word and Legolas' possible wrath and Elladan sighed aloud.

"Look Elro – I know we told Legolas we would stay here but I really think it is in his best interest if we get him the help he needs now. We can deal with his ire later."

Elrohir looked down at the insensate Prince in his arms and made up his mind – Elladan was right - Legolas was very, very unwell and it would be in the blonde's best interests for them to take him to the village so Elrohir could treat him properly. Elrohir only hoped that the Prince would not hate them too much nor think them untrustworthy when he found out.

Elrohir gathered Legolas in his arms and nodded to Elladan, "You are right Ladan. Let us go – he really does need proper medical assistance." Elrohir looked round him ruefully at the half set up camp his twin had worked on. "I'm sorry we've got to dismantle camp after all your work without even making use of it."

Elladan waved a hand, "Don't worry about that – go on ahead with Legolas I will deal with everything here and follow after you with Faervel."

Elrohir smiled gratefully at his twin, " _Le fael_ Ladan."

**~o~**

Arauca skidded to a stop at the huge, open wooden gates of the village having been ridden hard by Elrohir so that the journey to the village had taken a mere five minutes. The great horse had little chance to catch his breath for Elrohir was soon ushered through the gates, easily recognised due to his frequent trips to the small town.

"Hullo laddy – what's all yer rush fer?" Arngost the retired head of the village ambled up to Elrohir.

Upon seeing the body cradled in the twin's arms he gave a frightened cry. "That's not yer brother is it? I take it yer need a room? How badly off is the lad?"

Elrohir guided Arauca to a smooth stop, "Yes please Arngost – I need a room urgently, along with herbs for reducing fever, antiseptic, bandages, and needles – all the usual. He is very unwell and I must tend to him as quickly as possible." Elrohir put a gentle hand against Legolas' too warm forehead, "Tis not Elladan but a friend in need and I must help him all I can."

"Of course, of course – I'll lead you to a room and see that yer get all yer supplies lad. It'll be much quicker on foot though – you know how narrow all these village streets are – more like alleyways. Here pass him down to me while you dismount lad. It'll be easier."

Elrohir knew Arngost was trustworthy and only wanted to help him yet he hesitated. Legolas' earlier plaintive plea about not wanting to be touched by any _edain_ rang clear in his mind; yet he would not be able to dismount safely whilst holding Legolas. Elrohir felt bad about yet another compromise but it would only be for a few moments.

" _Hannon-le_ Arngost – he is not heavy but just please be very careful of his left shoulder. It is badly wounded."

Elrohir reached down, gently handed Legolas to the ageing _adan_ and turned to dismount when Legolas gave a disturbed moan and jerked slightly in Arngost's arms. Elrohir nearly threw himself to the ground in his haste to get Legolas back to himself. It really would not do for him to waken just yet. Luckily the Prince only made another soft groan before he fell deathly still again.

"Here, hand him back to me Arngost and lead the way. I fear he has gotten even worse."

Elrohir frowned as he checked Legolas' vitals once more. His pulse was had slowed considerably and he had gotten quite clammy. Elrohir held the blonde securely as he took quick, sure strides behind the former Ranger all whilst he laid a hand upon Legolas' chest and felt for his _fëa_. The sable haired twin's frown deepened; Legolas was straying into the darkness.

Elrohir felt a small frisson of relief as Arngost at last led them into the room that would serve as his healing ward. Elrohir had no time to waste if he was to halt Legolas' slide into _Mandos._

**~o~**

Legolas felt himself slowly drifting upward out of the dark, numb cocoon he had been in after what seemed like only mere seconds. Why? Could he not stay here for a while longer? Or better yet could the darkness not accept him as its own and draw him back deep within its pain and grief free confines?

Legolas struggled against wakefulness desperately. He remembered what awaited him and he was in no hurry to go back and face all the grief and pain he had left behind. He needed respite - his soul was so very weary and he felt as though he could not bear it all any more.

Legolas wrenched his very core away from the light and huddled back into the deep, black gloom. He could not face it wakening to all his problems. He did not want to. He knew it was weak and cowardly but at that moment, overwhelmed by the thought of the grief and pain he had yet to come he threw himself willingly into the shadow.

At that point Legolas cared not at all if he ever woke again.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Mae Govannen – Well met
> 
> Hiril-nin/Hiril - My Lady/Lady
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Hiro hîdh nen gurth Faervel – May Faervel find peace in death
> 
> Savo hîdh nen gurth – Have peace in death
> 
> Le fael – Literally: You are generous – Sindarin version of Thank you
> 
> Ellon – Male elf
> 
> Riel / Riel-nin – Princess / My Princess
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Ernil - Prince
> 
> Mellon-nin - My friend
> 
> Eldar – Elves
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Horses:
> 
> Agar – Rithel's horse - (Sindarin) Glitter
> 
> Arauca - Elrohir's horse (Quenya) Swift


	29. Chapter 29

"I'll go and make sure Arathien is on his way with yer supplies and then I'll let yer brother know where you are lad."

Elrohir nodded absentmindedly at Arngost as he placed the prone Prince on the bed, " _Hannon-le_."

The sable haired twin's attention was completely focussed on Legolas and the need to call his _fëa_ back into the light. He did not hear the soft click as the door closed behind the old Ranger as he left the room and instead gathered all his energy in preparation for what he was about to do.

Gently Elrohir placed his hand upon Legolas' chest and began to try and pull the Prince back from the brink.

"Legolas _tolo dan nan galad_."

**~o~**

A small but extremely bright light pierced through the darkness where Legolas had nestled himself and he looked up in curiosity. Slowly the small orb of light drew closer and closer to him and glowed brighter with every movement.

It was then that the Prince realised that the light was calling to him – calling for him to return to it.

Legolas instantly shrunk back further into the heavy gloom. He had no intention of going back to what he had left behind. Still the light followed and Legolas was forced to keep moving further and further back into the darkness to get away from it, until at last he found himself on the brink of a ledge. Carefully so as not to fall in Legolas peered over the edge – an unfathomable black void greeted him and Legolas hesitated and looked back toward the light.

It was dim now and no more than a mere pin prick in the deep gloom. The voice that had accompanied the light still called to him but it sounded weak and distant now and there was an edge of desperation to it.

"Legolas please go no further. If you will not come toward the light then please go no further into the darkness lest you be lost entirely. Legolas please!"

Legolas hesitated again – he already felt so lost as it were. Lost and bereft – surely it could get no worse? If he threw himself over the ledge and into the dark abyss – would it be any worse that going back to face his heartache, guilt and the pain he knew awaited him?

"Please Legolas – do not throw your life away. I beg you think this through and come away from the edge."

Legolas peered over the edge again. Would it truly be the end of him if he went over it?

"Legolas _lasto beth nîn_ – I beg you. Do not give in so easily and come away from the brink. _A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor Legolas. Ú or le a ú_. I feel you are strong – you can overcome."

Legolas stared at the small hovering pin prick of light. Why did it hold so much confidence in him? How could it say the darkness held no sway over him when he was currently shrouded in it? When he had willingly _chosen_ the darkness and accepted its icy embrace as a means of escape.

"We will help you through all of this – I promise."

With a sigh Legolas sat down carefully upon the ledge, dangled his legs over the edge before he called back toward the light, "I do not think you can help. Can you erase this heaviness in my heart?"

"Not immediately no – but we will help you work through this. You needn't be alone in your grief Legolas. What of your family and those who love you? Please believe me when I say you ae not alone."

Family.

The word echoed through his mind as he pictured both his _Adar_ and Rithel. It had been so long since he had seen them both. So long since he had seen the rest of his troop, so long since he had seen his home and his friends. Faervel finding him had helped him, he hadn't felt homesick or lonesome with his friend at his side but now…

Grief tore through Legolas' heart as he recalled Faervel's bloodied lips, still smiling gently even in death.

"You are wrong," Legolas shouted. "My friend is dead, his life wasted trying to save mine and I am alone. All alone as I deserve. Now leave me please – I came here to seek peace and you bring me grief even here so deep in the darkness. Leave me lest I throw myself from this ledge."

Legolas placed his head in his hands wearily as he did his best to fight off his anguish which had made a rather unwelcome appearance.

"I will leave you…for now only if you promise me you will not let yourself be seduced over the edge. Promise me. Legolas please – tell me you will not give in to despair."

Legolas said nothing but slowly drew his legs up from where they dangled and gave a tiny shuffle so he was no longer right on very edge of the chasm. He did not look at the light but drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them tight to himself.

" _Hannon-le."_

Legolas looked up at the softly whispered words and saw that the light had understood his wordless agreement and watched as it slowly retreated until he could no longer see nor sense it.

The light was gone and the blackness smothered Legolas – eager to reclaim him. It wasted no time as it wrapped the Prince into a numb, shadowy cocoon once again and whispered careless words that promised him a pain free, guilt free existence even as it sunk its dark, treacherous tendrils deep within his very soul.

**~o~**

"Elrohir!"

Groggily Elrohir opened his eyes and was immediately confused as to why he had a face full of dirty blonde hair.

"Elro! _Valar_ are you alright? Speak to me."

Strong hands sat him upright and gave him a shake and Elrohir realised that he must have fallen onto Legolas' chest at some point during his trance. He felt weak, utterly drained and as was usual for him after these trances he felt a mild sense of confusion.

"Elro please you are scaring me."

Elrohir was given another little shake by Elladan and at last he found his tongue.

" _Nuitha_ Elladan. Please…I am just fine you needn't shake me so."

"What do you mean you are just fine? You have been slumped over him and unresponsive for the past ten minutes. None of us have been able to awaken you and you expect me to believe you are 'just fine'?"

Elladan sounded incredulous and on the verge of hysteria.

Elrohir glanced away from his panicky twin and instead glanced round the room to see that Arngost had indeed done as he had promised and had brought back Arathien - the Rangers chief healer - and copious medical supplies along with his frantic brother.

Elrohir then switched his attention to the blonde lying insensate in front of him and frowned – Legolas looked like a corpse. He was ridiculously pale – even for a Sindar – and his lips had a bluish tinge to them.

"I am sorry to have worried you," Elrohir glanced at the men in the room before he focussed on Elladan. "I was trying to call him back – his _fëa_ wanders deep in the darkness Elladan; he has strayed very far from the light. I tried to call him back but he would not heed me. He would not budge and in the end I had to leave him lest I grew too weak to bring myself back."

"He did not respond to your call at all?" Elladan looked down at the Prince.

Elrohir shook his head despondently, "Nay his grief consumes him and he is unable to think clearly at the moment. We must get him to _Adar_ as quickly as possible. By tomorrow eve at the very latest - we shall have to ride like the wind if we are to save him. I made him promise…promise not to give in to his despair but I do not know for how long he will heed my words. He is hurting deeply and his _fëa_ is wounded. It will need _Adar_ 's strength to pull him back I think."

Elrohir felt grieved that he had not been strong enough to pull Legolas back into the light but decided not to dwell on it. He had at least halted the Prince's slide into despair; now it was time for him to do what he could for Legolas' physical wounds.

"Do you still have a need for myself or these supplies Lord Elrohir? Or will you be leaving post haste?" Arathien's calm, respectful voice brought Elrohir back into the room.

"Yes Arathien – I will have need of your skills. I may not be able to heal his _fëa_ myself but I will do all I can to heal and stabilise his _h_ _röa_ before we leave."

The elderly healer nodded and began to prepare the tea, herbs, bandages and tools that would be needed as Elrohir gave him an explanation of their patient's many wounds whilst Arngost quietly excused himself from the room.

"I'll be standing vigil over the other poor lad yer brother brought here," Arngost bowed his head, "no one – especially one of the _Eldar_ \- ought to lie in a morgue alone."

" _Hannon-le_ ," the twins simultaneously thanked the ageing man both bowing low gratefully before Arngost left the room.

Elrohir took in a deep breath before he turned to face his twin, "I would ask you a favour Ladan."

"And what would that be?"

Elrohir gave an apprehensive smile unsure how Elladan would react to his request. "I spent far too much of my energy in the healing trance just then," and he held up a hand to forestall Elladan's outburst. "Yes I know it was reckless of me but I could not let him slip away from me. Please understand - I could not lose another so soon. I wish to do what I can for his physical wounds now but…"

"But you lack the strength," Elladan finished for him before he shook his head and held out his hand to Elrohir. "Here take what you need."

" _Hannon-le_ ," Elrohir smiled at his twin's understanding and generosity before he grasped his brother's hand.

The surge of energy that flowed from his twin was instantaneous and refreshing and Elrohir pulled back after a short moment.

Elladan looked at him warily, "Are you sure that is enough?"

Elrohir nodded as he walked over to stand with Arathien at Legolas' bedside.

"I am well now Ladan – _le fael_ and do not worry. Come now Arathien, I wish us to leave first thing in the morn and his injuries are numerous. Let us begin."

**~o~**

Thranduil did not move from where he was, hunched over at the head of the table, head resting on one arm even as the other remained clutched at his heart.

Vaguely he was aware of a commotion around him and he supposed that was to be expected when both the King and his heir and daughter both collapsed in pain clutching at their chests.

What _was_ that pain?

Thranduil knew Rithel had felt it too as he had heard her cry out at the same time as he had given a pained gasp at the sudden agony that had gripped him.

Gentle hands were on his shoulders now and tried to get him to lift his head, to sit up straight but Thranduil shrugged them off. He needed a moment – to catch his breath and to try and figure out what had happened. That pain was unlike any he had ever felt before and most terrifying of all it had originated from his bond with Legolas.

Legolas. Please, _Valar_ …no…

Gingerly and with fear nearly choking him Thranduil felt for his bond with his youngest.

Please, please, please…let him not be…

To his great relief and almighty surprise Thranduil felt that his bond with Legolas was indeed still there, still intact though he could barely feel it now. It was even cloudier and more blocked than it had been before and a rather chilling coldness emanated from it instead of the usual warmth and joy that was Legolas' signature.

Thranduil did not understand. The pain he had felt - it had been very different to the pain he had felt when Celeblassel had died. That pain had been as the pain when his _Adar_ Oropher had died – a sharp, agonising, breath-taking but short pain that had given way to a duller ache that had lasted for months (or in the case of his wife years).

The pain he had felt just now however; it had felt as though his bond with Legolas was being pulled right out of his heart strand by strand. It had felt so tight and stretched and had been utter torture. Yet now that it was over Thranduil felt nothing – no lingering ache - and his bond with his son was still intact. So Legolas was not dead; but then why that pain? What did it mean?

Thranduil hauled himself back into an upright position and dragged a hand through his hair before he took stock of the room. He was irrationally pleased to see that it had been cleared and that the only people who remained were Arahaelon, Aglardaer, Bôr (all three were looking at him with fright clear upon their faces but Thranduil paid them no mind), Rithel and Calelon.

Good – someone had seen fit to call the Royal healer. Thranduil watched tiredly as Calelon tended Rithel and tried to get her to drink some water. His daughter however was crying far too hysterically to do as Calelon said.

" _Iell-nin -_ "

Instantly Rithel's eyes flew to Thranduil and she was out of her seat and by his side in a flash.

"Oh _Adar_ ," she sobbed, "Did you…are you… _Lasseg_ is…oh _Adar_ ," Rithel slumped against him and Thranduil put a steadying arm around her.

"Hush _iell-nin_ , do not despair for your _gwanûr_ just yet. Feel for your bond – it is still there even though it is shrouded. He is still with us."

Thranduil watched as Rithel did as he had asked and her faced cleared when she felt the bond before it fell back into a troubled frown.

"Why is it like that _Adar_? Why does the bond seem so…so dark and cold? And why did we feel that pain just now if _Lasseg_ is indeed still in the land of the living?"

Thranduil helped his daughter up into a chair before he handed her the glass of water Calelon had been trying to give her.

"I do not know," Thranduil closed his eyes with a sigh and leaned back in his own chair, "I have never felt anything like that before."

"I think I may know what you both just experienced," Calelon piped up and Thranduil opened his eyes and sat up a little to look at the healer who now had the attention of all in the room.

Calelon cleared his throat, "I have come across it a few times, often within the families of warriors. The pain you felt was quite intense was it not? And it felt as the thought your very bond with Legolas was being pulled from within you. Am I correct?"

"Yes," Thranduil gave a single affirmative nod of his head anxious to hear what Calelon would conclude.

The healer sighed and gave a small, sad shake of his head. "Whilst the Prince is still alive he is in grave danger. These pulls and tears in bonds like this often mean the person is close to death, deep in darkness and hovering. Hovering in the shadow realm just in between this life and the Halls of _Mandos._ "

Calelon poured another glass of water and handed it to Thranduil, "I am so very sorry to say it but it seems that wherever the Prince is he is hanging on by a thread."

"Can we – can we do nothing about it then? Nothing to stop _Lasseg_ from…from…" Rithel put her hand to her mouth as Calelon shook his head.

"Nay, until he is found – you can do nothing for him."

Rithel gave another small sob and Thranduil gently rubbed his daughter's back. He knew how much she doted on her younger brother and it was hard to see her so upset; just as it was hard to think of Legolas out there, near death and alone. Thranduil straightened himself – he could not stand to see and know both his children were suffering. He had to do something.

"Commander Aglardaer please proceed with the plan we spoke of prior to this disruption. You will advise me once it has been done."

"Yes _Aran-nin_."

Thranduil watched his friend and Commander of his army leave to do as he had been bid.

Prior to the shocking pain that had stolen his breath and caused him to collapse, the war council had come up with a plan to try and find their missing Prince and Faervel. It had been Rithel's idea and in truth it was one they were not entirely sure would yield any result but it was the best plan they had.

They were going to use the bloodhounds that Thranduil had purchased on a whim a few months ago. The hounds had been undergoing training and were by no means tested, yet Rithel had argued the case for using them vehemently. After all, she had reasoned, they would never pick up the trail again by sight but with scent they perhaps stood a chance.

So the council had agreed and Thranduil had declared that they wound split the hounds into two troops – one looking for Faervel and the other for Legolas for they still had no idea whether the two had met up. Thranduil had been about to give the order to Aglardaer when the pain had struck him insensible.

Thranduil stood up slowly, he hoped the plan would work and he hoped Legolas would be able to hold on just a while longer.

The King steadied himself using the chair back before he tuned to his secretary, "Bôr please would you see Rithel to her rooms and then send for her bodyguard and her chambermaids."

"Yes _Aran-nin_."

Thranduil moved over and cupped his daughter's face gently, "Try not to worry _iell-nin_ – go now and take some rest. I will check in with you later okay?" He wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

"B-but _Adar_ -"

Thranduil shook his head, "There is nothing more you can do now Rithel. Hold to hope and rest for now. I plan to have those _môr-edain_ brought before the council tomorrow and I want you at your sharpest."

"Okay _Adar_. _Aduial vaer."_

Thranduil gave Rithel a smile and quick peck on the cheek. "And the same to you _iell-nin_ – _hodo vae_."

Thranduil was left alone with Calelon and Arahaelon and he turned to face his Regent, "Lord Arahaelon please inform the war council that all is well with myself and Rithel. Please also inform them that I have given the go ahead to use the bloodhounds and that they are dismissed until further notice."

"Yes _Aran-nin_ ," Arahaelon turned to leave before he stopped and looked back, worry clear in his eyes. "Will you be okay Thranduil?"

Thranduil smiled at his friend's drop of formality and concern, " _Avaro naeth,_ I am wellArahaelon."

His Regent dropped into a respectful bow before he swept from the room but Thranduil could see that his reassurance had done nothing to ease his friend's worry. Thranduil shook his head wearily – that could not be helped – Arahaelon would forever worry over him.

"Calelon," Thranduil turned to face the only one who remained in the council chambers with him. "I would be most grateful for a sleeping draught."

"Oh?"

Thranduil huffed lightly at the unvoiced question. "I am weary beyond measure as well you know Calelon but I cannot find sleep no matter how hard I try or how exhausted I am. It eludes me and after this evenings events I do not think I will fare any better – so a sleeping draught please."

"As you wish _Aran-nin_. I will bring it up to your rooms personally."

" _Le fael."_

Calelon left the room and the elven King frowned. Thranduil did not really want Calelon to bring him the draught for he knew that the healer would poke and prod at him beforehand in order to ensure all was as well as it could be. It was Calelon's job Thranduil knew but that did not make it any less annoying for him. Still it would be a small price to pay to finally get a full night's sleep and give his mind some small respite from the never ending worry it had endured since he had first had news of Legolas' capture.

Thranduil massaged his temples wearily before he opened up a small hidden door built into the walls of the war council chamber. He would use the secret passageways to get to his rooms – he wanted no company. He was still in some shock over all that Calelon had told them about his missing son.

Ai Legolas, the King despaired, where are you _ion-nin_? Can you hold on a little longer for me please?

**~o~**

Rithel dragged her brush through her hair half-heartedly before she let it fall from her hands onto her bed as she gave up on trying to tame her silver locks. Her hands shook too badly to do the task properly and she instead pressed them to her eyes as tears threatened once again.

How had this happened? How had her baby brother been captured? And why? What did his captors want? There had been no ransom – no note demanding riches in exchange for his life. Did the captors even realise who Legolas was? Or had her little brother simply been unlucky? Wrong place, wrong time?

These questions whirled round and round and round her mind as well as darker thoughts and Rithel gave a heavy sigh as she swiped futilely at her tears that now flowed freely. She was so, so worried for Legolas – he was out there, alone in unfriendly hands and from what Calelon had said barely clinging to life. Rithel pulled he knees up to her chest, rested her head on them and began to cry in earnest. Her grief felt as though it would crush her.

Just then the door to her chamber opened and Rithel looked up to see Arlä, her bodyguard enter the room.

Arlä gave her a small smile, "I've managed to convince your chambermaids that you will be fine with only me for company _mellon_ ; please do not cry so lest you want them to rush in here and fuss over you again."

Arlä sat on the bed next to Rithel and swung an arm round her, "You cannot give up hope just yet. Your little brother is wily and stubborn – an heir of Oropher - he will not give up so easily and nor should you."

Rithel sniffed and rested her head against Arlä's strong shoulder, "I know that deep down, but the pain I felt earlier Arlä," the Princess shivered, "it was horrible and my bond with _Lasseg_ feels so…so cold – as though he were already gone. And Faervel – he…he…"

Rithel sobbed again and Arlä gave her an encouraging smile and held her tighter.

"You must be stubborn in your hope that all will be well with your _Lasseg_. The King is doing all he can as are all the _maethyr_ who are out there looking for the Prince. Have faith that they will pick up the trail again and try to remain positive." Arlä paused a small frown clouding her fair features, "It is very sad about the Lord Faervel but I am sure that he too will be found and brought home to be honoured properly. We must have faith that the bloodhounds will help and that both will be found."

Rithel nodded – Arlä was right – she ought not to give up hope so easily and she picked up her brush determined to fix her hair properly before she slept. Arlä was quicker however and snatched up the brush before Rithel could get hold of it.

"Turn around and I will do it. I promised your chambermaids that I would tend you after all. They would have my head if they knew I let you do your own hair."

Rithel sniffed, wiped at her eyes and gave a small smile, "I am well capable you know. You needn't baby me."

Arlä hummed in agreement but continued to brush out Rithel's silky silver curls regardless. "I know, but there is not a lot else I can do to help you right now save be here for you and offer any small comfort I can. So just please…let me."

Rithel gave up. Arguing against Arlä was an exercise in futility – the Avari _elleth_ had a deep stubborn streak and Rithel knew nothing short of a direct command would deter her. So instead the Princess slumped against her bodyguard and willed herself to relax.

Her _Adar_ wanted her rested, fresh and sharp for the morrow when the men who had aided in Legolas' capture would brought before the council. Rithel was unsure how to feel about facing them – there were far too many swirling emotions for her to process - and decided that if she were to get any sleep that night it would be best for her not to think about it at all.

"Sing to me Arlä – your voice is most calming and I am in desperate need of some calm and peace."

**~o~**

"Here let us see if we can get him to drink this tea first then it can get to work straight away on bringing down that fever of his. I've also added some pain killing herbs." Arathien motioned toward Legolas with a cup of the freshly brewed tea and Elrohir moved to gently prop Legolas into a sitting position.

Slowly they began to coax the bitter liquid into the inert Prince. It was a tedious process as they needed to get as much of the liquid as possible into Legolas without choking him.

"What is his name – do you know it?" Arathien questioned as he continued to administer the tea, never looking up.

Elrohir shot a quick look at Elladan and inwardly panicked at what to reply. Legolas had not wanted to come here for whatever reason and he had initially hesitated to give Elrohir his name when asked. Elrohir did not think Legolas would appreciate it if he gave away his identity. Thinking quickly Elrohir decided to give the name that he had heard Faervel call Legolas.

"Las," Elrohir felt it was a good enough compromise. Arathien now had a name to work with and he had not fully betrayed Legolas.

"Leaf? Hmm an odd name but then again I suppose not," Arathien mused as he continued to gently aid Legolas in swallowing his fever reducing brew.

Elrohir frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Well to us it may seem an odd name but I suppose for one of Thranduil's people it is a most fitting name."

Elrohir shot another look at his twin before he glanced at Arathien. "What makes you say that he is one of Thranduil's people?" questioned Elrohir.

"Well his colouring for one – he certainly isn't Noldor," Arathien removed the cup from the Prince's lips satisfied that he had gotten all the tea into his charge.

Elladan piped up, "That is true but he may well be one of the _Galadhrim_ ; there are many with blonde hair and pale skin who reside in the Golden Wood."

"Yes," Elrohir latched onto the lifeline his brother had thrown him, "besides we did not really get to speak with him properly – he has been in no fit state and we found out little more about him other than his name."

Elrohir felt bad for the lies that flowed so easily off his tongue but he did not want to give out too much information on Legolas. He had already broken the Prince's trust by bringing Legolas to the village after promising not to; the twin did not want to add to his crimes by divulging all that he knew about the blonde. It would be better if Legolas just remained a vague _ellon_ that had needed help.

Elrohir gently rearranged Legolas so he was lying on his side once again and he fervently hoped that Arathien would ask no more discomforting questions. He had no such luck however as Arathien continued on heedless of Elrohir's silent wishes.

"I know there are many with his colouring who reside in the Golden Wood yet I do not think he is _Galadhrim_. See. Look just there."

Arathien pointed a long, thin finger toward a tear in Legolas' shirt near his bicep. Elrohir leaned in to have a closer look and caught a glimpse of some deep, black lines etched neatly into the Prince's skin.

"A tattoo," Elrohir voiced his finding for the benefit of Elladan - unable to see from his position well out of the way of the two healers.

"Yes," Arathien nodded sagely. "Only the elves of the Woodland realm mark themselves in such a way."

Elrohir hummed in acknowledgement as the ornate tattoo on Legolas' upper right bicep came into full view as he and Arathien gently eased the tattered shirt from Legolas so as to have better access to his wounds. The tattoo was skilfully done and Elrohir wondered at the symbolism behind the practise before he shook the thought from his mind as more of Legolas' bruised, battered and cut skin came into sight.

Elrohir held back a sigh, they had undressed the Prince fully now – a towel sparing his modesty. Where to begin? Legolas was littered with abrasions and welts from head to toe. Not only that one of his ankles was hideously swollen and Elrohir prayed it was just a bad sprain and not a break. The ebony haired twin bit his lip guiltily as he looked the Prince over; he really ought to have fully checked out Legolas before now – the Prince had so many wounds that Elrohir had been completely unaware of.

"Let's start by washing him down and treating his lesser wounds first Arathien; once we've done all that we can tend to the larger wound on his shoulder and deal with his ankle. By then your pain killing potion should be in full effect so we will cause him no unnecessary pain."

"Of course Lord Elrohir."

Arathien approached holding a large wash basin filled with warm water, _athelas_ leaves and petals scattered into it and set it near the bed where they would both have easy access to it.

Elrohir dipped a clean cloth into the fragrant water and began to gently clean Legolas starting with his face. He had compromised much this night but it would all be for Legolas's good in the end. The Prince _would_ survive this – of that Elrohir was determined.

**~o~**

Elrohir leaned back straightening his posture and slowly moved his head from side to side working the stiffness from his neck muscles. He could see in the corner of his eye that Arathien did something similar whilst Elladan had fallen asleep hours ago. It had been a very long night, full of meticulous procedures that required high levels of concentration and drained energy.

Arathien laid a gentle hand upon Elrohir's shoulder, "There is only an hour or two until sunrise – take what rest you may now. I will ensure everything is ready for you to safely transport him to Imardris as soon as day breaks. We can do no more for now."

Elrohir however made no move to rest and instead pushed a loose strand of hair from his face and studied Legolas with a frown. The Prince was now swathed in pristine white bandages – all his hurts and wounds tended to, stitched up and bound. Yet Elrohir was still not happy. Legolas hadn't so much as twitched whilst he and Arathien had tended to him and whilst Elrohir knew the pain killers administered to Legolas had ben powerful it was unnatural that he had remained so deathly still throughout all the procedures.

Not only that but Legolas had been with them for two days now yet he had a great many smaller cuts, scrapes and bruises that he had gained prior to them meeting him back up in the Mountains. Such tiny, shallow injuries should already have been healed or at least be well on the way to healing yet they all looked fresh as though Legolas had gained them a mere day ago. Elrohir's frown deepened as he continued to look down at his patient and he noted Legolas' shallow breathing.

"What worries you Lord Elrohir?"

Elrohir snapped his gaze from Legolas to look at Arathien, "Pardon?"

"Something troubles you still – despite all the work we've one on this elf…Las….you are not satisfied with something. What is it?"

Elrohir sighed, "You are right – I worry for him. He does not heal as he should. Have you not noticed all the scrapes and shallow cuts he has upon his person? Such small injuries should be healed by now – the elven body heals quickly and Las has been with myself and Elladan two days now but still these little wounds bleed and look as though he just sustained them."

Arathien stroked his chin thoughtfully, "I did notice, but I did not know what had happened since you found him. I did not know if the wounds were indeed fresh or not."

"Nay, Las gained no further injury whilst with us so his elven healing should have already taken care of all these smaller wounds." Elrohir shook his head, "We have done all we can for his _hröa_ but it is the state of his _fëa_ that worries me most. He is deep in darkness, I could not call him back and now…he does not heal as he should."

Arathien frowned as he understood what Elrohir was getting at. "You fear that he is fading."

Elrohir gave another sigh, deeper and more weary this time. "I do not fear it. I know it. Please do as you have said and get everything ready. The moment the sun peeps over the horizon we must be on our way. We must get to Imlardris with all haste if we are to save him."

**~o~**

Thranduil grunted and rolled over in bed as he sought to block the bright light that streamed into his bedroom and right into his very face.

Bright light? He was not accustomed to being awakened by bright light.

Thranduil cracked open his one good eye and surveyed his room before he shot up and glared at the sunny blue sky through his window. Why the hell was he still in bed at such a late hour?

Thranduil threw off his covers and stormed into his bathing chambers and began to rush through his morning routine. From the position of _Anor_ he could tell it was three hours past sunrise. He grit his teeth angrily as he dried himself off. Where was Galion? Or any of his chamber staff? Why had neither Arahaelon nor Aglardaer come to get him when they saw that he was late?

Thranduil threw open the door to his walk in wardrobe and growled; no doubt they were all in it together and had conspired against him to give him some 'much needed rest' or some other such nonsense. Calelon was no doubt the instigator and Thranduil cursed himself for having confessed his tiredness to the Royal healer the previous night. He should have known better.

With an annoyed huff Thranduil began to pull on the robes left out for him by Galion. The elven King scowled at the thought of his traitorous butler; Galion would do well to stay out his sight today.

Robes on Thranduil snatched up his brush and began to pull it through his bed tangled locks.

His head throbbed – sleeping draughts always gave him such a hideous headache the morning after and his mood sunk further still. Finally, hair perfect and gleaming Thranduil stood and placed his heavy jewel laden Spring crown upon his already hurting head. He had to wear it – he would be facing down his son's captives today after all.

At last looking perfectly regal and feeling positively murderous Thranduil set forth.

Faervel was dead and his son was alone, grievously injured and near death – it was time for justice to be done.

What woe is yours, Thranduil thought darkly, you who were so foolish as to trespass in my Woods and cause harm to my people – to my son. Woe is you.

The elven King stormed through his halls, "Send for my prisoners!"

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Tolo Dan Nan Galad – Come back to the Light
> 
> Lasto beth nîn – Listen to my voice
> 
> A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor Legolas. Ú or le a ú - The Shadow does not hold sway yet Legolas. Not over you.
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Nuitha – Stop, Do not continue
> 
> Le fael – Literally: You are generous – Sindarin version of Thank you
> 
> Iell-nin – My Daughter
> 
> Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas
> 
> Gwanûr – Brother
> 
> Aran-nin - My King
> 
> Môr-edain – Dark (Evil) Men
> 
> Aduial vaer – Good Evening
> 
> Hodo vae - Rest well
> 
> Avaro naeth – Don't worry
> 
> Ion-nin – My Son
> 
> Mellon – Friend
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) Warriors
> 
> Elleth - Female elf
> 
> Ellon – Male elf
> 
> Anor – Sun
> 
> A/N: So my apologies this has taken so long to get up - Christmas got in the way and then it was back to work which has been hectic so my writing time has been limited. I hope you enjoy and please do forgive any spelling mistakes etc. This is unbeta'd as my lovely beta Karleen is away on a trip and I did not want to delay posting any longer. As ever thanks for reading :)


	30. Chapter 30

Lady Ìdhes adjusted her white headscarf for the umpteenth time. It was a symbol of her mourning along white the rest of her white coloured attire. The scarf kept slipping down her head as she hurried to get back to her now resoundingly empty home. The announcement of Faervel's death had been made first thing that morning and Ìdhes knew it was only a matter of time before her friends, Faervel's friends and other mourners all came to offer their condolences. She wanted to have time to have a cup of tea to settle her nerves before she began the daunting task of accepting the deluge of concern and sympathy that would be coming her way.

She stiffened as she noticed a figure already waiting at her front door for her but relaxed once she saw it was her good friend and fellow healer Nemiril.

"Ah Nemiril _mellon-nin_ , I am pleased it is just you," Lady Ìdhes smiled as she unlocked her front door and beckoned her friend inside. "I was worried for a minute that there was someone to offer condolences here already. I am not quite ready to face that yet."

Nemiril smiled kindly at her friend, "I can imagine. Do not worry I will keep everyone away until you are ready. How about some calming chamomile tea? I brought my own brew and some honey."

" _Le fael_ Nemiril I do not know that I could face this alone." Ìdhes did her best to hold back her tears but a few streaked down her cheeks anyway.

"Oh Ìdhes," Nemiril put down the kettle she had been about to put on to boil and rushed to embrace her friend. "I know today will be hard for you _mellon-nin_ but I am here for you and anything you need, anything at all, name it and I will do my best to see it done. As for today – the minute you feel overwhelmed just let me know. You do not have to take all the mourners today. We will go at a pace you can handle."

"Thank you Nemiril – for everything."

Nemiril waved off the thanks and set about getting them each a cup of the tea she had blended especially. It would be needed – they both had a very long and emotional day ahead of them. Nemiril still could not quite believe that the lovely, kind hearted Faervel that she knew and loved had passed into the care of _Mandos_ _._ He was so very young, only a year of two older than her own son Aeglosson – she could not imagine Ìdhes' pain. Nemiril only hoped that Faervel's body would be found so that her friend might take some small comfort in the return of her son's _hröa_.

Nemiril steadied the tray in her hands as she brought it to where Ìdhes sat and handed her a teacup.

"I expect my Aeglosson will be among one of the first to show up and offer you his condolences." Nemiril sighed as she sat close to Ìdhes, "He took the news rather badly this morning."

In truth badly was an understatement – Aeglosson had been devastated at the loss of one of his very best friends and it had taken Nemiril at least an hour to calm her grieving son. Still she saw no need to mention that to Ìdhes – it would only exacerbate her grief.

Ìdhes blew softly on her tea, "Yes Faervel and Aeglosson are…were great friends weren't they?"

The grieving _elleth_ smiled as she thought of the antics Faervel had gotten up to along with Aeglosson, Prince Legolas and Tauriel. It was hard to believe that Faervel would never again come home after a long patrol or a crazy night out with his friends and fill her in on their hijinks.

Ìdhes took a slow sip of her tea and willed herself to think on the good times she had gotten to spend with Faervel rather than dwell on the fact that she would never see her son on this side of the Sundering Seas again. If she thought like that she would never make it through the day. Nay, she would fix her mind on her favourite memories of Faervel and hope that they would sustain her.

"The first mourners approach Ìdhes. Are you ready? I will put them off if not." Nemiril stood, put away her teacup and smoothed her hair ready to answer the door.

Ìdhes gave a long, slow exhale before she swiftly gulped down the rest of her tea. There was no use in putting things off any longer.

"Nay, it's alright Nemiril. Let them come."

**~o~**

Tauriel looked up at the gentle tapping on her bedroom window and was unsurprised to see Aeglosson clamber through. He had done so many times before though usually for very different reasons. The circumstances were quite different now though and Tauriel did not even have to ask Aeglosson if he had heard the news. It was clear that he had for Aeglosson was garbed head to toe in mournful black and his face could not hide his sorrow.

Instead Tauriel simply held her arms open and Aeglosson sank into them willingly.

Tauriel stroked the soft silver curls and whispered, "I can't quite believe it. Poor, poor Vel…I just…I just can't believe it."

Aeglosson sniffed and Tauriel knew then that he was crying. She did not blame him, she had spent the better part of the morning doing just the same. In fact, she had only just pulled herself together prior to Aeglosson's arrival. Tauriel held her friend closer and tighter, hand never leaving the silken locks as she tried to provide what little comfort she could. It was cold comfort though and well she knew it – nothing would ever be the same for them.

Faervel was gone. They would never again enjoy his witty banter, be cheered by his sunny smile or be the object of his fussy mothering. Faervel was gone and worse than that his body had not even been found yet. It was heart-breaking and Tauriel was not surprised to find that her own tears had begun to flow once more.

The two clung to each other in their mutual grief for a few long moments until Aeglosson at last pulled away and swiped at his eyes.

"I am sorry Tauriel," the silver haired _ellon_ gave a small smile, "I ought not to burden you with my grief as well."

Tauriel waved him off, "Don't be ridiculous - there is no need to bear such difficult news alone. I am here."

Aeglosson nodded and adjusted his headscarf. "I wonder if Legolas knows? Do you think Faervel found him…before? Do you think they met up?"

"I have no idea," Tauriel shrugged helplessly, "and in truth I do not know if it would be better that they met up before Vel died or that Legolas remains ignorant for now." Tauriel sighed, "How has it come to this? Vel in _Mandos_ and Las only _Eru_ knows where."

"I don't know. It is a complete mess and today's news now makes me even more fearful for Las' wellbeing. I cannot believe we were still not chosen to join the latest search teams. They left last night did you know?"

Tauriel shook her head - she had not known but then again Aeglosson always knew these things in advance – he was the grandson of the King's Regent after all.

"I did not know that but that is good. Perhaps they have some new lead to follow; do not fret that we were not picked – they would have picked only _maethyr_ with exceptional tracking skills for such a task."

"I suppose." Aeglosson knew Tauriel was right but it did not help him feel any less useless. He stood and extended his arm to Tauriel, "Come, it is time for us to go visit Lady Ìdhes and pay our respects to Vel."

"Yes," Tauriel took a deep fortifying breath and latched onto Aeglosson's arm like a lifeline. It would be difficult but they had each other for support; together they could do it.

Each armed with a beautiful bouquet of flowers they began the long, sad walk to Faervel's former home.

**~o~**

"Send for my prisoners!"

Several of the Palace Guards rushed to do as their King had bellowed – they could sense he was in a foul mood and had no intentions of exacerbating it any further.

Thranduil continued onward to his throne room – he had decided that that would be the best place to hold his interrogation of his son's captors. There he would be better able to intimidate them with his presence looming over them from his high throne. The throne also gave Thranduil a superior vantage point and had been placed in such a way that allowed for him to see the entire room despite him having only one properly functioning eye. It would be perfect.

Thranduil paused upon entry to the ornate room and addressed one of the pages that held the great gilded doors open for him.

"Please send for all those on that list," Thranduil handed the page a length of parchment. "Let them know that they are to attend me with all haste."

"Yes _Aran-nin_ ," the page scuttled off to do as he had been told and Thranduil sat upon his throne and reviewed all he had been told about the captive men.

He would give the _edain_ time to speak in defence of themselves of course – Thranduil was a just King – and he was intrigued as to how they would try and justify or defend their actions.

Thranduil pushed a loose strand of hair behind his ear and closed his eyes. He would have to remember not to cut down any of the men prior to the trials conclusion; it was the reason he had forgone wearing his sword this morning. Arahaelon had told him time and time again that he needed to hold full, proper and just trials and that murdering a defendant before the trial was over was generally frowned upon and could start a war.

In all honesty Thranduil cared not one whit about whether he started a war with any Mannish village – he simply wanted to pump the men for any information they could offer that could aid in in his search for his son and Faervel. Aglardaer had told him that the men had claimed not know anything of their whereabouts but Thranduil would ask regardless. Even the smallest scrap of information could be of help and Thranduil hoped for the men's sake that they would have something to offer.

The elven King arranged his face into its usual expressionless mask as he heard several footsteps approach the throne room doors. They were light, barely there steps and therefore not his mannish prisoners but several of those he had sent the page to fetch. He had asked for Rithel, Arahaelon, Aglardaer, Bôr and all the remainder of Legolas' troop – Camaendir, Aithel, Feren, Magoldir and Thoron. Arasson and Hadril were both still in the healing ward and Thranduil had not wanted to put Celegil through the stress of the trial when she had only just been released from the healing ward and he had already heard her report, so he had not asked her to come. Lady Ìdhes was another who would not be in attendance having rejected the offer to sit in. Thranduil could hardly blame her.

A sharp knock was followed by the announcement that Lord Arahaelon and Crown Commander Aglardaer had arrived. Just the _ellyn_ he wanted to see.

"Enter."

Thranduil glowered down at the two as they bowed and greeted him and he waved a hand impatiently.

"Never mind all that, pray do tell why neither of you saw fit to come and wake me this morn? Did you not realise I had overslept?"

Aglardaer paled slightly but Arahaelon only crossed his arms and returned Thranduil's glare.

"You needed the sleep Thranduil and so we let you sleep. Why are you making a fuss?"

"Why am I…why am I making a fuss? I have duties to attend in case it slipped your mind Arahaelon. A King can hardly afford to be loafing around in bed!"

Arahaelon remained unconcerned by Thranduil's pique, "Oh please Thranduil twas the first full night's sleep you've had in a long time and I'm sure your _hröa_ was most grateful for the respite. Now save your ire for those who approach."

Thranduil stopped, listened and pulled himself back up into a more sedate and regal looking position from where he had leant over to snarl at his friends. Heavy, trudging footsteps could be clearly heard now and Thranduil turned to Aglardaer.

"Aglardaer have the guards keep the men in the antechamber until everyone else has arrived please."

Aglardaer dipped low and strode off to do just that.

Arahaelon pinned Thranduil with a look, "Are you ready for this?"

Thranduil smoothed his hair and shifted his face into impassivity once more. "Yes I am as ready as I will ever be. Do not worry yourself Arahaelon – I will be calm, proper and just."

Arahaelon snorted – he knew Thranduil would be fair and just but he highly doubted that his friend and King would be able to keep calm. "Just remember it is frowned upon to -"

Thranduil cut him off, "Yes, yes – I promise not to kill anyone until after the trail. I heard and understood you the first two hundred times Arahaelon."

The silver haired _ellon_ shrugged then smoothed his own hair absentmindedly while he read over notes he had made on the case once more. He looked up as the page announced those of Legolas' troop whose presence Thranduil had requested – only Rithel and Bôr remained to arrive. The trial would soon begin.

**~o~**

Blacwin tried his best not to cower in fear as a tall, red-headed elf swung open the ornately wrought door to his cell. This was it. The moment he had been dreading ever since the accursed elves had captured him and his men back in the forest. It was time for them to answer for their crimes.

He did not resist when the male elf took hold of his arms and placed shiny silver manacles on each wrist. Blacwin hoped that perhaps if he were agreeable and co-operated with the elves that it would go some way toward atoning for his previous sins against them. A voice in his head scoffed at his foolish hope but Blacwin held onto the slim hope nonetheless. It would be far too depressing if he had no hope at all.

Silently and obediently he followed the elf out of the cell as he was lined up with his fellows – all held fast by silver chains – in the corridor outside. A few of his men were struggling futilely against their elven guards and generally causing quite a commotion.

"Be still," Blacwin hissed at the two causing the most fuss, "There is no point in fighting the elves further – we are in their domain now. Be silent and do as you are told and perhaps we may not come out of this too badly."

At the reprimand all the men fell deathly silent and gave up any struggles.

The red headed elf – who seemed to be in charge nodded to Blacwin, "Thank you _adan_. I will mention to the King that you have been model prisoners for the most part, though I do not know if it will do you much good."

Blacwin grasped at the small ray of hope offered, "I would be grateful indeed Master Elf if you would do us such a kindness."

The elf nodded again before he spoke in his strange tongue to the other elven guards and then they were on the move. They were guided up winding stairs that were without rails or balustrades that served to make Blacwin feel quite ill. It seemed that there was no end to them and Blacwin realised that they had been deep in the very underbelly of the King's palace.

Finally and yet still far too soon Blacwin and his men were ushered down a long richly carpeted corridor. There were grim faced guards placed every thirty odd feet and the panelled wooden walls were hung with stunningly beautiful paintings and tapestries. Blacwin supposed that they all portrayed important, noble elves but he did not recognise a single one; nor could he read the curly elvish scrawl on the frames that he suspected identified the elves depicted. Right at the very end of the corridor were two huge over-elaborate gilded doors cast in bronze and gold flanked on either side by even sterner looking guards as well as two rather young looking elves dressed in identical uniforms. Blacwin supposed they were pages, heralds or something of that ilk.

The doors loomed up above him now as they were stopped just short of them and one of their elvish escort went to speak with the door guards. Blacwin could feel the heated gazes that bore into him from the four elves that flanked the doors and he struggled not fidget. He needed to keep still, be silent, put up no fuss and keep what he had left of his dignity.

That was easier said than done however, the force of anger Blacwin could feel in the stares upon him felt like a tangible weight. He swallowed. If the guards and lowly pages felt that strongly about them and their crimes – what then would the Elven King himself think of them?

**~o~**

Rithel kept her steps slow and measured as she walked up to the throne room doors and was admitted inside along with Bôr. She felt nervous and did her best to quell the feeling – after all she had no reason to be nervous. She was not the one who would be on trial.

Rithel felt Bôr stiffen beside her as they walked into the antechamber of the throne room.

The reasons why were standing in a neat line, securely shackled with one guard assigned to each. Rithel did not slow nor stop yet she managed to get a good view of each _adan_ as she walked past them and swept into the throne room.

Any nerves she had felt had disappeared and instead she felt rage; red hot and quite unlike anything she had ever felt before toward any sentient being (the Princess considered orcs and spiders too stupid to be considered truly sentient).

How dare those _edain_ trespass in her home and then deign to lay their filthy hands on her _Lasseg_?

All of a sudden Rithel could not wait for the morning's proceedings to get underway.

**~o~**

"Hail Lords Elladan and Elrohir. _Mae govannen_."

Elladan glanced up at the loud greeting as he, Elrohir and their charges at last entered the protected domain of Imlardris.

" _Mae govannen_. Sorry to be blunt but we have no time to spare - please send word ahead to our _Adar._ We have two elves with us, one already in _Mandos_ _,_ the other about to enter and Elrohir is on the verge of collapse." Elladan ignored the weak, half-hearted glare his twin threw him and continued, "We will need his immediate aid."

"Yes of course Lord Elladan." The soldier who had greeted them raced off to deliver the message and another came up to their horses and bowed low.

"Do you need any assistance my Lords?"

"Yes."

"Nay."

The ebony haired twins glared at each other.

"You need help to carry Legolas Elro, do not be stubborn. You are completely spent."

"I am no such thing – I have made it this far have I not?" Elrohir retorted annoyed with his brother's over-protective tendencies. "At ease soldier I need no help."

"Stay put," Elladan barked at the soldier unfortunate enough to be caught between the two before he turned on his brother. "Hand Legolas to him or at the very least to me you stubborn _ellon_ _._ "

"Nay. Do you expect to be able to manage both Legolas and Faervel? Besides Legolas' condition is perilous, if he is with me and takes a turn for the worse I can instantly assist him."

Elrohir tapped his heels against Arauca and continued to make his way down the steep path that led into the protected valley. Elladan waved a hand dismissing the soldier before he followed along beside his twin annoyance clear upon his features. That was the same argument Elrohir had used to convince him to let him carry Legolas on their mad dash back home. Elladan had conceded then – his brother's reasoning made sense but now that they were here Elladan really felt that Elrohir could have accepted some help. Legolas was hardly likely to get any worse in the five minutes it would take them to reach the main house and Elladan said as much to his twin who simply waved him off.

"I am fine Elladan stop trying to baby me – I am not likely to collapse in the next five minutes either."

Elladan grit his teeth and gripped his reins so hard his knuckles turned white. Elrohir could be so infuriatingly determined. He was also far too invested a healer and was known to push himself to the brink for his patients. It was a trait even their _Adar_ had been unable to quash and it was clear just by looking at Elrohir that he had pushed himself too far yet again. He looked tired, bags under his eyes, he was shades paler than usual and several times Arauca had had to abruptly change step to keep his twin from slipping.

Elladan nudged Alarca closer to Elrohir and watched him closely for any slips or signs of collapse as they traversed the steepest part of the path. There was little else he could do when Elrohir was in a mood like this.

**~o~**

Elrohir rolled his eyes. Elladan had pulled up closer to him – no doubt in case he suddenly fainted or something else just as ridiculous. The sable haired twin shook his head; Elladan was such a dramatic, over-protective mother hen at times.

A divot in the path caused Legolas' head to loll listlessly to one side and Elrohir was quick to straighten it. He studied the blonde in his arms. Legolas looked exactly as he had when they had left the Ranger's village at first light that morning – pale and lifeless. Elrohir supposed he should be grateful; Legolas hadn't gotten any better but he hadn't gotten any worse either. He was stable - close to death true, but stable nonetheless.

Elrohir tightened his grip and gave Arauca a tap. They were in the valley proper now, off the steep path and Elrohir could afford to ride with some speed again and did not hesitate to do so. He was keen to finally get Legolas into his _Adar's_ care.

**~o~**

Elrond hustled down the corridors leading to healing wing; his robes flapped wildly in his haste even as his own thoughts swirled as he pondered the message he had just received from his eldest. They were apparently brining two elves with them – one already past his help and the other very near the end. What on earth had his sons gotten themselves into now? How and where had they even found these elves? Who were they? And what of Elrohir – why was he on the verge of collapse? Had he too gotten himself grievously injured?

The Peredhil Lord shook the questions from his mind as he instructed a few members of staff to ready the ward for the mystery arrivals whilst he swapped his formal robes for those of a healer and scrubbed his hands. He had been in a meeting but it was nothing that could not wait; he knew Elladan and Elrohir never called for him unless the situation was indeed dire and hence he had dropped everything and rushed to be ready for their arrival.

He did not have long to wait.

The clatter of boots and urgent whispering reached him just then and Elrond gazed round at his ward and staff and felt satisfied that all was as ready as it could be.

Elrohir appeared first an unconscious blonde bundle held tightly in his arms just ahead of a frantic and annoyed looking Elladan who held a wrapped bundle in his. Presumably the unfortunate elf that had already passed from this world.

"Elrohir here, Elladan over there," Elrond pointed his sons toward separate beds at opposing ends of the ward and turned to look at his eldest. "The elf you carried is the one already passed into the keeping of _Mandos_ – correct Elladan?"

"Yes _Adar_ ," Elladan laid his charge on the bed appointed and looked down sadly, "His name was Lord Faervel Mallossonion."

Elrond and his staff all bowed their heads for a moment in respect before Elrond looked up again. "Right, you two please conduct the autopsy. You will report to me later. Then I want him bathed, changed into fitting clothes and laid in the Halls of Rest until we are able to contact his kin."

Elrond walked over and slowly uncovered the _ellon's_ face. It was ashen, lax and peaceful looking though curiously the blue lips were quirked upwards in the very slightest of smiles. Elrond studied the face before him a moment longer before he covered it again.

" _Savo hîdh nen gurth_ Faervel Mallossonion," Elrond intoned solemnly before he looked up at the two he had tasked with the _ellon's_ care. "I also want you to arrange someone to keep watch over his _hröa_ whilst he lays in the Halls of Rest."

"Of course Lord Elrond." The two bowed and carried their charge out of the room to begin.

Satisfied, Elrond turned and walked over to Elrohir's charge. He studied the blonde before him who was nearly completely swathed in bandages and wrapped in Elrohir's cloak.

"What of his injuries Elrohir? And his name?"

Elrohir snapped to attention and stood straight but Elrond had already noticed how heavily his son had been leaning upon the counter – as though he had hardly any strength left.

"Numerous injuries _Adar_ – all manner of smaller cuts, bruises and lesions. The most serious _physical_ wounds however are to his left shoulder – it looks as though he was shot and it was infected. There is also severe damage to his ankle – not broken but serious harm done to the ligaments – along with a cut and bump to the back of the head, though there is no concussion and there is a deep gash in his thigh that is also infected."

Elrond frowned and with the aid of his assistant began to gently undress and unwrap the _ellon_ to gain a better look at all that Elrohir had described.

The Peredhil looked up at his son again, "You stressed that these were his physical wounds – I take it there is damage to his _fëa_ as well."

Elrohir nodded and an upset look crossed his face before it quickly disappeared. "I tried my best _Adar_ but I could not manage it…I could not call back his _fëa_ and it lays at the very brink for my weakness."

Elrond looked up and spoke sharply – he needed Elrohir to really hear and understand his next words. "Nay Elrohir you are not weak – nothing this _ellon_ has suffered is your fault. You have done your utmost in a dire situation and that is all that can be asked of any healer. Do not blame yourself nor think yourself weak. Not even for a moment."

Elrohir let out a heavy sigh and slouched against the counter even more wearily than he had before. "So you say _Adar_ but I already lost Faervel – I tried so hard to save him too…I just…I wish…I _need_ to be stronger as a healer." Elrohir directed his gaze toward the stricken blonde, "Please save him _Adar_ ; I am loathe to see yet another elven life lost to those Mountains and the accursed _glamhoth_ _._ "

Elrond glanced up from where he checked over the _ellon's_ wounds, "You are a great healer already Elrohir and you _will_ get stronger in time. I know you will have done your best for both these _ellyn_ so berate yourself no more. You have done a fine job on all his injuries – your stitches have been placed with precision and there is naught else for me to do for his physical wounds other than change the bandages and apply more antiseptic."

Elrohir gave a little hum of acknowledgement – pleased that at least he had managed to get that much right.

"Sit down before you fall down Elrohir," Elrond glanced up from his work at his son, "You look exhausted."

"Here Elro sit next to me," Elladan patted a space next to him where he had sat down on a spare bed.

"I am not as badly off as Elladan has made out you know," Elrohir grumbled but hefted himself up off the countertop and slumped down to sit next to his brother all the same.

Elladan rolled his eyes at his brother's proclamation and hid a small happy smile that Elrohir was at last getting a bit of rest.

Elrond gave an absent murmur of approval and continued to work the blonde over. Elrohir had not exaggerated when he said that the _ellon_ had sustained numerous smaller injuries. It was clear he had suffered through some awful ordeal and Elrond wondered what might have happened.

He turned to his sons, "Elrohir you mentioned not losing any more elven lives to the Mountains – is that where you found them both?"

Elrohir nodded, "Yes – we came upon them quite unexpectedly after following the sounds and signs of a scuffle against the orcs. Faervel was already mortally wounded when we found them and actually we met him first." Elrohir pointed to indicate the blonde, "He presumably thought we were orcs as he lashed out at us before he realised we were indeed elves. Then he was ecstatic to see us and he lead us to where he had left Faervel."

"I see," Elrond did not take his eyes off his patient. "What is his name?"

"Legolas," Elrohir replied and Elrond knit his brow in a frown.

Why did that name seem familiar? Well – not truly familiar but it rang a dim and distant bell somewhere in his mind. His question was answered a second later.

"Legolas Thranduilion." Elrohir looked at his _Adar_ mild apprehension written on his face, "that is his full name."

Elrond's hands shook and stumbled in their work before he regained himself and continued to work as smoothly as he had done before – clean, apply salve, bind wound. The elven Lord said nothing but frowned all the more as he ran through the implications in his mind.

"Thranduilion – you are sure about this?" Elrond's voice was a soft murmur.

"Yes, we were quite surprised too but he is indeed King Thranduil's son. He admitted it to me after a moment or two of hesitation," Elrohir confirmed.

"Hmph, well he certainly had the views of his _Adar_ ," Elladan snorted, "He was most difficult and adamant that he was not to be taken to any _edain_ village especially one inhabited solely by Rangers."

Elrohir jabbed his twin hard in the ribs. "Silent – you should not speak ill of him when he is so unwell. Nor should you speak so of his _Adar_ who is a King need I remind you."

Elladan pouted and made to protest but a look from Elrond silenced him.

"Your brother is right Elladan – you should not speak so of either him or his _Adar_ ; besides he may well have good enough reasons for his reluctance to interact with Men or Rangers."

Elrond personally doubted it though; it was likely the young Prince had merely picked up the bigoted views of his oft loud-mouthed father. The Peredhil's thoughts turned to his fellow ruler. He and Thranduil hadn't spoken a word to each other outside of vital official communications in centuries. It was odd to think that they had once been close friends. Along with Glorfindel there had been a time when the three were nigh inseparable yet somehow distance, silly, ancient feuds and the burdens of leadership had conspired to pull them further and further apart until naught was left besides cold formalities and mistrust.

Elrond brushed some of Legolas' dirty blonde hair away and studied his battered face. Yes – he could certainly see some hint of Thranduil there. Elrond shook himself out of his reverie and began tend to the head wound Elrohir had warned of with the help of his assistant.

"Have you had chance to send word to King Thranduil?"

"Nay – we were in too much of hurry with Legolas being so ill but I can go and do so now if you wish _Adar_ ; and please forgive me for speaking out of turn. It was wrong of me to speak so against an unwell Prince and a King." Elladan gave a small bow of his head contrite.

"It is fine Elladan – all is well but learn to school your tongue in future. And yes please do arrange to have a missive sent to King Thranduil, if you get stuck in what to say ask Erestor to help you dictate the message."

"Yes _Adar_ ," Elladan stood up and bowed. "By your leave I will go now."

The twin rose and lopped off to the door before he stopped and turned to face his _Adar_ once more. "Please don't let Elro fool you into thinking he is hale _Adar_ – he really isn't."

Elladan gave a small smile to his twin who was glaring heatedly at him before he strode off to do as asked. Elrond smiled at his sons' antics before he turned serious again.

"Elladan is right you know Elrohir – I can feel the exhaustion rolling off you in waves. You will go to your rooms and rest, but not just yet. First off tell me everything that happened when you tried to call Legolas back into the light. Just how damaged is his _fëa_?"

**~o~**

Aeglosson braced himself as he and Tauriel crunched up the gravel path that lead to the large, imposing tree home where Faervel and his _Naneth_ lived. Where Faervel _had_ lived. It was all so surreal and Aeglosson drew to a stop just in front of the polished green door. How was he supposed to do this?

He had had the unenviable task of delivering the dreaded news of the death of a comrade to their parents once in his role of Second in Command. Tauriel would usually do it as Captain but that particular patrol had been disastrous and she had been gravely injured and laid in the healing ward unable to perform her duty to their comrade's kin. It had been awful – a truly dreadful experience but Aeglosson knew that this would be even harder. For though he had been close to his comrade he had not really known his parents and so had been able to stay distant and aloof for most of the ordeal. This time though…

This time was different. Lady Ìdhes was like a second mother to him; he had spent countless days and nights under her roof and she had looked after him as though he were her own. How did one comfort a grieving mother? _Eru_ knew he hadn't felt able to properly comfort his own _Naneth_ when his brother and _Adar_ had passed.

A gentle squeeze on his arm brought him out of his thoughts and he looked at Tauriel who gave him a small kind smile and nodded her head toward the now open door where three others were just leaving – his _Naneth_ waving them off.

Aeglosson blinked. Dimly he remembered that she had mentioned something or other about going to help Lady Ìdhes – he had been far too upset to pay much attention at the time.

"You are welcome to come in you know – Tauriel, Aeglosson." Nemiril gestured for her stricken looking son and his friend to enter and both took deep breaths before doing so.

Aeglosson followed wordlessly behind his _Nana_ and Tauriel, flowers clutched to his chest as some sort of a shield.

"Tauriel, Aeglosson _mae govannen_ and thank you both so much for coming."

Lady Ìdhes smiled - the same bright and cheery smile they were so used to seeing on Faervel - and swept them both into a massive, bone crushing hug as she always did. Everything was exactly the same – bar one. Faervel had not come bounding down the stairs happy to see them, gently reminding his _Naneth_ not to smother them to death with her forceful hugs before dragging them up to his room.

Aeglosson's heart ached at the absence of his friends presence and he bit the inside of his lip hard – desperate not to give in to the emotions that raged within him and end up a sobbing mess as he had been earlier that morning. Lady Ìdhes pulled back and was not fooled in the slightest however; she could see the badly concealed anguish and the unshed tears that gleamed in too bright eyes.

"Ah little ones let loose your grief – it does no one any good for you to hold it in – that will only harm you in the end." Ìdhes accepted both bouquets offered to her and beckoned the two friends follow her.

She led them through her large house to the wide expanse of grassy yard at the back where there was now a huge collection of beautiful blooms.

"I am think of planting some of these," Ìdhes gestured to her collection of bouquets. "I will plant the hardiest of them – it would be a lovely way to remember Vel do you not think?"

"A remembrance garden?" Tauriel tilted her head in question.

"Yes, Vel was ever so fond of all things green and living though bless him," Ìdhes giggled a little, "he could never manage to coax anything to grow."

A small smile crossed Aeglosson's face, "Yes I remember having to console him many times over the fact."

Tauriel scoffed, "Console him? More like taunt him that nothing ever grew for him as he was part Noldor."

"Well it was true," Aeglosson pouted before he cut himself off at the sound of Lady Ìdhes full blown laughter and both he and Tauriel blushed as they realised that they had let that little fact slip in front of Faervel's fully Noldor mother.

"I am sorry."

"We meant no offence."

Ìdhes laughingly waved them off, "It does my heart good to know that Vel had such good friends. He always spoke highly of you two and the Prince as well. I know you never meant him ill. Now what do you think of my idea for the garden?"

Aeglosson smiled, his heart suddenly a little bit lighter. "I think it is a grand idea. Vel would be tickled to know that he had plants _actually_ growing for him."

Tauriel nodded, "It would be a fitting way to honour his memory."

"I'm glad you both agree," Ìdhes smiled, "Now as you two were among his closest friends I thought you'd like to pick and plant the first ones."

Nemiril watched as the three surveyed the flowers before each picked what they thought were the perfect blooms for Faervel and then began to plant. Ìdhes was listening intently to the stories her son and Tauriel were telling of Faervel occasionally adding a memory of her own to the tales. The silver haired healer smiled at the three before she went back into the house to await any further mourners.

Secretly Nemiril hoped that there would be no more for a while. This was the brightest she had seen Ìdhes look today, and her son did not look nearly so broken as he had earlier in the day when he had first learnt the news. She knew Aeglosson had been dreading the visit but it was doing them all a world of good.

Nemiril was well aware of course that elven grief did not dissipate so easily; that there were still plenty of dark days ahead to overcome and that the longer Faervel's body remained missing the heavier the toll would be on all his loved ones. Yet for now – on this the first hardest day to get through – it was enough and for that Nemiril could only thank the _Valar_.

**~o~**

"Send the _edain_ in now." Thranduil commanded the page that had introduced his daughter and secretary; everyone was here now and the elven King was more than ready to get started.

One by one the shackled men were lead in so that they stood at the centre of the throne room. They were flanked on either side by Thranduil's advisors and Legolas' troop who were all seated and studied the men intently, impassive elven masks firmly in place. Thranduil was of course at the head of the room high above everyone else. He studied the men before him resting his gaze upon each one – sizing them up.

They were all clearly mercenaries – Thranduil could tell from the way they were dressed and the way they carried themselves – clearly these were men who had never been on the right side of the law. They looked rough and battle worn with numerous ugly scars, tanned leathery skin, unshaven faces and coarse, calloused hands. The thought of those rough hands manhandling his son made Thranduil's blood boil and he studied them for a minute more to see if he might pick out their leader.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes down at one man who looked a fair bit older than the rest; he was also standing slightly more forward than the rest of the men and Thranduil was pretty sure his guess was right. Deciding he had left them in enough suspense Thranduil barked at the one he had picked out.

"You there - what is your name?"

Blacwin flinched at the icy command. He had been here less than a minute and already this was proving to be even more awful than he had imagined. He and his men were surrounded by cold, stony faced elves who watched them unflinchingly and Blacwin could not help but fidget a little as he shuffled his feet. He tried to answer the forceful question but found that all that left him was a rather pitiful sound. He was mortified but before he could clear his throat and try again the elven King spoke.

"Do not try my patience _adan_. I asked a very simple question to start with – your name?"

"B-B-Blacwin S-Sire." Blacwin was unsure how to refer to the mighty elven King but hoped that would do.

"Blacwin?" Thranduil wrinkled his nose ever so slightly as though he had smelt something dreadful. "Are you the leader of these men?"

Cursing Aldred for the hundredth time he unwillingly answered, "Y-yes Sire I am now. O-our true leader is not present here so now I…I am their leader."

"There are more of you lurking in my Wood?" Thranduil glanced at Aglardaer in annoyance before he turned his glare upon the man – Blacwin and fumed at the thought of more trespassers.

"Nay, S-sire – he is not here. He…he left with another four of our company."

"How many of you were there in total when you first trespassed in the Woodland realm?"

Aglardaer did not think Thranduil would mind if he stepped in here and he really wanted to know – he was certain he had captured all the men – but he wanted to be absolutely sure.

"Urm…" Blacwin was thrown by another elf - silvered haired and imposing suddenly taking up the questioning. "Originally there were twenty six of us. But we got into a…a umm… a skirmish with a number of elves…it was all a misunderstanding you see Lord elf and… and um then we lost some men."

"A misunderstanding?"

Blacwin directed his gaze upwards to the elven King who was now back to questioning him – he wished they would just decide who was asking the questions already - they were making him feel rather flustered. Perhaps that was their intention; if so it was certainly working as Blacwin stammered whilst he tried to think of a way to better phrase and describe the battle that had gone on between him and the elves they had targeted for capture that would not see him killed on the spot.

"Are you hard of hearing? The King has asked you a question and you would do well to answer it."

It was the silver haired elf Lord again and Blacwin began to feel real panic. He decided it was far safer to go with the tale that it had all been an unfortunate mix-up – maybe they would then be granted a reprieve or some mercy if he did not admit they had come to the wood with malicious intent. He decided it was worth the gamble.

"Yes Sire, it was all a misunderstanding," Blacwin tried to look as contrite as possible and hoped his men were doing the same.

Unfortunately, his gamble did not pay off.

The elven King spoke again and this time his voice was several degrees colder.

"I do not think so human. My _dírnait_ h do not shoot first and ask questions later. They are all highly skilled warriors who have been better trained than that. I know you came here with ill purpose," Thranduil's eyes flashed. "I also know that you tried to capture several of my warriors, however the other two were freed and you now only have captive the one. And he just so happens to be _my_ son."

Blacwin's eyes went wide as the King continued.

"I don't want to hear anymore nonsense about misunderstandings," Thranduil snarled all sense of calm sacrificed to his wild fury. "I want you to tell me right now where he is. Have they done him harm? What do they want with him? Where is my son?!"

Blacwin could only stare frozen to the spot. The King's son? The elven King's son!

All the gods above what had they done?

Blacwin stared up at the King in dread. They were in real, real trouble.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mellon-nin - My friend
> 
> Le fael – Literally: You are generous – Sindarin version of Thank you
> 
> Hröa – Body
> 
> Elleth - Female elf
> 
> Ellon/Ellyn – Male Elf/Elves
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) Warriors
> 
> Aran-nin - My King
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Adan – Man
> 
> Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas
> 
> Mae Govannen – Well met
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Savo hîdh nen gurth – Have peace in death
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Glamhoth – Din horde; yelling horde- Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Naneth / Nana – Mother / Mamma (Mommy)
> 
> Dírnaith – Military (Troop/Guard)
> 
> Horses:
> 
> Arauca - Elrohir's horse (Quenya) Swift
> 
> Alarca - Elladan's horse (Quenya) Agile


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So very sorry for the huge delay. Real life has been beating me up recently – work and injury leaving me little time to write (besides which it has been physically painful to write due to injuries to tendons in my wrists.) Still I am very sorry and I have made the chapter a bit longer than usual to try and make up for it. Do enjoy!

"I…" Blacwin faltered, his mind a total blank.

What could he possibly say that would not end in their swift deaths? Why-oh-why out of all the elves that had been there for the taking had Aldred chosen to make off with the elven King's son?

"I…" Blacwin tried again, "I did not know the identity of the elf captured Sire."

The King said nothing but his hot glare suggested that he was displeased with the answer given. The other silver haired elf (who Blacwin thought was rather rude for not introducing himself) interjected then.

"Do you really expect us to believe that?" Aglardaer sneered in disdain at the man.

"T-truly we did not know the identity of any of the elves we just…we just er…we were told to…um…"Blacwin trailed off as he realised he was about to admit their plans for elf capture.

"You were told to what?" Aglardaer prompted annoyed by the man's muttering and stammering. _Valar_ above could he not just spit it out already? He had already greatly angered Thranduil, there was no need for him to add to his sins. Did the _adan_ truly have no sense of self-preservation?

"We… we did not know the identity of any of the elves - this I promise you. We just chanced upon them."

Thranduil grit his teeth and took a small breath in and out in order to prevent himself from flinging one of the daggers in his boot into the man's neck. Why would the _adan_ not just get to the point? Did he truly instil such little fear into the man that he would continue to lie and play them for fools?

Well then - it was time to up the ante.

Thranduil called for a page before he whispered instructions to the young _ellon._ He sat back then and waited feeling the tiniest bit calmer.

Blacwin watched as the page hustled back in a few moments later holding a great war bow and a full quiver, both of which he handed over to the elven King. Cold dread trickled down his spine – he had a really bad feeling about where this was going. Blacwin watched with a muted horror as the King gracefully nocked an arrow.

"Now," the King's voice was even more frosty than it had been before, "I have already been appraised of all that has happened since you first attacked my warriors; you _will_ give me a straight answer for every question I ask you from here on in. For every bit of hesitation you show or lie you tell I will shoot one of your comrades, for it is clear that you need a little bit of 'inspiration' to be truthful with me."

The elven King aimed his first arrow at the man at end of their line - at Rhon - one of the few men that Blacwin actually liked and considered as a friend and he cursed his luck. Would the elf King truly do something so cruel? Elves were supposed to be fair and upstanding beings above this sort of thing. Surely the King jested – he was merely trying to pull a full confessional out of him.

At least that was what Blacwin fervently hoped.

"Why were you trespassing in my Woods – and remember," the King hoisted his bow and arrow higher, "I want the truth."

Blacwin studied the aim of the arrow for a minute though he did not turn to look at Rhon. He still did not believe that the elves could be so callous.

"We…we were on a hunting trip and got lost."

A sharp whistle cut through the air and to Blacwin's great dismay and shock he heard Rhon scream out in pain. Blacwin broke out of the line and struggled against his chains as he tried desperately to get a look at Rhon. To his horror Rhon was on the floor, face contorted in pain, hand clutched to his bleeding shoulder. The elven King's arrow lay on the floor beside him and Blacwin forgot himself in his shock and directed an angry gaze up at the regal blonde.

"How dare you? You…you just _shot_ him!"

Thranduil ignored Blacwin's ill-judged fury, gestured for the injured man to be taken away, nocked another arrow and aimed it at the man next in line. "I did warn you, did I not _adan_? Yet you still refused to take me seriously. Let me warn you again – I am not an _ellon_ to be trifled with."

Thranduil watched in satisfaction as the man's ire dissipated as quickly as a morning mist to be replaced with a look of fear. Perfect – he was sure the _adan_ would not try to spin any more foolish tales. Perhaps now he could finally get some information that would aid his search for Legolas.

Thranduil had not wanted to stoop to such tactics as he just had but needs must. In any case he hadn't done the man he had shot any real harm. Thranduil had deliberately missed his shot so the man suffered only a graze to his upper arm. The deliberately chosen spot was prone to profuse bleeding in order to further the deception that the man had been mortally wounded. Blacwin would find out later that his comrade in evil was well once he was returned to the dungeons – after he had told Thranduil everything he knew.

Thranduil knew the tactics were cruel but he also knew they would get him what he wanted. He could tell that Blacwin was a good leader and not completely heartless – he would not let his men suffer unnecessarily and so the elven King knew that this would be the perfect way to extract the truth from him.

"Now shall we try this again?" Thranduil looked at Blacwin though his bow and arrow remained unwaveringly on the man next in line to be 'shot'.

Thranduil was pleased to see Blacwin give an affirmative nod of his head. Perfect – Thranduil really hadn't wanted to have to 'shoot' anyone else. "Good – now then, why were you trespassing in my Woods?"

Blacwin swallowed once then twice in order to settle his frayed nerves, gather his courage and steady his voice. He had decided he was going to risk all their lives and tell the elven King the cold, hard truth. Maybe, just maybe it would gain them some mercy.

"W-we were… we came here in order to capture elves Sire," Blacwin rushed his answer out desperate to cover his stammer lest the King shoot another of his men.

Thranduil had to tighten his grip on the arrow he held in order to stop it from flying forth in his shock.

"You came to my realm to do what?" Thranduil was sure he had heard incorrectly. Surely no _adan_ would be so stupid?

"We came to -"

Blacwin was cut off then as one of his men interrupted him with a shout.

"Blacwin you fool, be silent - do you mean to kill us all?"

Thranduil glared and immediately changed the trajectory of his arrow so that it now aimed at the man who had spoken out of turn.

"You are the one who should remain silent _adan_ ; I have no need of you and can dispose of you very swiftly. You will _not_ speak unless spoken to." Thranduil glowered down at the line of men in front of him and pinned each with hard glare, "That goes for you all. Now… you… Blacwin continue."

"Y-yes Sire, we…we came here to capture elves on the orders of our leader."

"And what were your intentions for these elves? Did you pick out certain elves such as my son specifically?"

"N-no Sire this I promise you, I am telling the truth – we had no idea who it was we were capturing. We were just told to grab as many elves as possible once our leader - Aldred – gave the signal. As for our intentions with the captured elves…" Blacwin hesitated and took a deep breath, "we…we intended to sell them in the slave markets to the East in Rhun."

This admission caused a ripple of discontent murmurs and angry hissed whispers among both Blacwin's men and the elves that surrounded them alike. For his part Blacwin dropped his gaze to study the polished floor he stood upon unable to hold the angry stare of the elf King a moment longer. It was as though the blonde was trying to see into his very being and Blacwin could not bear it.

"So this Aldred, this leader of yours you keep mentioning, the one who managed to escape; does he intend to take my son to Rhun and sell him? As though he were a mere cow at market?!"

Thranduil shook with the effort of remaining in his seat rather than leaping down to dish out bloody justice upon the _edain_ below him.

"T-th-that was the original p-p-plan S-Sire," Blacwin's stammering had returned with a vengeance in the face of the elven King's fury but he took a quick, deep calming breath and continued on bravely. "H-h-however after things went wr-wrong the plan changed."

"Changed? What do you mean _adan_? Speak clearly – I do not have time for any more of your time wasting. Out with it – now!" Thranduil was positively furious.

"W-well Sire the…the plan went wrong as I mentioned. The drug we used – passion flower -was not as potent as we had hoped, and although it greatly slowed the elves and made them drowsy and uncoordinated they were still able to fight back rather viciously."

Blacwin lifted his eyes at last as he dared a peak at the group of elves to his right. He immediately wished he hadn't and dropped his gaze back to the floor under the force of the angered gazes that had stared right back at him. He had recognised a face or two however – this was the same troop of elves he and his group of men had battled against to no avail in the forest. The very same ones who had helped drag him here to face the elven King's wrath. Blacwin dared to eye the group again as he searched out one elf in particular – the dark haired one that had slapped him hard for lying about the whereabouts of the blonde elf Aldred had made off with. Yet he was nowhere to be seen – how odd. Surely the elf King would have called him here as some sort of a witness?

Blacwin's musings were cut off by an angry snarl from the blonde King high above him.

"Did I tell you to cease speaking _adan?_ Continue!"

"S-sorry Sire," Blacwin glanced at the King, flinched then stared back down at his feet. "The fight went ill for us and Aldred decided it would be best if we split up. My group took two elves captive with us and used one as decoy by using some of the blonde elf's …er… your son's hair whilst Aldred made off with…with your son in the opposite direction."

Thranduil grit his teeth in anger at the admission that the _edain_ had dared to cut Legolas' hair as well as at the man's long winded rambling. Why would he not just get to the point?

"Succinct _adan._ Do you know what that means? Just get on with telling me where this Aldred man intends to take my son. I care not for the finer points of your tale right now. Does your leader intend to take my son to Rhun or not?"

"I…I believe so Sire. The plan when we split up was for my group to distract the elves that pursued us and…" Blacwin gulped nervously, "either kill or capture them before meeting up with Aldred, the men he took with him and your… your son along the banks of the Great River near the Old Ford."

Thranduil nearly groaned in aggravation and frustration – he already knew the Men had been to the Old Ford – the troops he had sent out to look for Legolas had told him as much.

"I know that," Thranduil snapped, "my trackers have already found and followed that trail and it leads straight into the Mountains. Surely that could not have been your back up plan? Going into those Mountains would be pure folly."

Blacwin floundered then at the elf King's scathing reply.

He had no idea what Aldred's next plan of action had been. All the wretched bastard had told him was to meet him along the banks of the Great River and the elven King already knew that much and more besides. Blacwin truly had nothing else to offer nor could he offer an explanation of why Aldred had decided to take a suicide trip into the Misty Mountains. That was the truth and unfortunately it was a truth that would probably see him killed.

So with a deep sigh and heavy heart Blacwin dared to look up at the King earnestly, "I am sorry to say that I do not know Sire. I do not know what the back-up plan was save meeting near the Old Ford, I do not know why Aldred and his group headed into the Mountains and I do not know where on Arda they might be right now."

Thranduil felt his anger rise even as his hopes sank at the man's solemn admission. Thranduil could see from the scared but very earnest look the man had given him that he was telling the truth – he truly had nothing to offer that would aid in finding Legolas.

Thranduil removed the arrow from his bow and placed both quiver and bow beside him before he turned furious eyes upon the Men before him.

"That is most unfortunate for you _adan,_ for had you given me information that led to the safe return of my son I would have been lenient with you. However as you cannot even offer me that I see no reason to spare you from the punishments you richly deserve." Thranduil's voice was cold and deadly, "You will now answer and give and account for all the charges against you."

Thranduil waved a hand and Lord Arahaelon stepped forward and began solemnly, "You _edain_ are each charged with the following – trespass in the Woodland Realm, murder of civilians of the Woodland realm -"

"Woah now – wait! We… we did not murder anyone you can't… you can't possibly charge us with that. You got your elves back alive and your son was alive when we last saw him! We did not murder any elf." Blacwin was alarmed.

"Be silent _adan_ ," Thranduil roared enraged at the interruption, "did I not say you were not to speak unless spoken to? The woodsmen you and your men saw fit to hold captive, torture and yes – murder are citizens under my protection; they too are citizens of the Woodland realm. Think you that you will get away with the harm you did them? Well think again – for you _will_ pay – each and every one of you will pay for every single one of your crimes. We are elves and we are fair so you will get your chance to defend yourself at the appropriate time but for now be _silent_ and listen to the charges without interruption. _Then_ and only then may you try and defend yourselves."

Thranduil nodded to Arahaelon and his Regent continued to read the charges against the men as though he had never been interrupted.

"Capture and torture of citizens of the Woodland Realm, capture of the Prince of the Woodland Realm, capture, torture and unlawful violence against warriors of the Woodland Realm, endangerment and…"

The solemn charges being laid out against him and his men by the grim faced, silvered haired elf faded into white noise as Blacwin's mind went blank in a horrified panic. He had thought that the worst was over, that this trial was nearly at its end with his confessional to the King yet it seemed he was sadly mistaken. It was only just beginning and from the long list of crimes that was still being read out against them it seemed that they would be here for a good long while yet.

"…and unnecessary suffering to wild life and flora. Those are all the charges against you. Now, one by one how do you plead?"

The silver haired elf was looking at him in expectation, he was first in line as well as leader and Blacwin felt his knees tremble and knock. He hadn't even heard half the charges but he knew there was no point in denying anything – he'd admitted too much already (to no avail) and he had no doubt that there were many witness just waiting and willing to testify to his misdeeds and cruelty.

A deep weariness sank down on Blacwin then right to his very bones and he heaved a great sigh; he'd been doing wrong and evil for a very, very long time and now at last it was time for him to pay.

"G-g-guilty S-sire," Blacwin forced his voice to steady, "I shall contest none of my crimes for I am guilty."

**~o~**

Elrond stroked his chin slowly as he pondered all that Elrohir had told him regarding Legolas' _fëa_. It seemed that the young Prince was really hurting; grief and guilt over his friend Faervel's death and loneliness all vied for his heart. Twas a potent mix – no wonder Elrohir had not been able to call him back into the light.

At length the Peredhil Lord moved to stand over Legolas and he gently placed his hand (the one that secretly held Vilya) onto the Prince's clammy forehead. He did not try to call Legolas just yet – he only wanted to get a feel of his _fëa_ so he could properly determine what his next move ought to be. Elrond exerted a little power and then promptly snatched his hand back and frowned. The darkness that had enveloped Legolas was worse than he had presumed. It was thick and palpable; so thick in fact that Elrond hadn't even been able to feel Legolas' _fëa_. He would have to put quite a bit of power behind his touch if he were to penetrate the gloom and get a proper look.

Elrond let his hand fall to his side and Elrohir piped up then concerned, "What is wrong _Adar_? Why did you stop?"

Elrond gave his son a kind smile, "His _fëa_ is shrouded in deep darkness – in fact I was unable to even feel it." Elrond closed his eyes as he began to slowly call forth power from Vilya, "It will take a lot more power than I anticipated to bring the Prince back to us – but I will do my very best."

With that Elrond placed his hand firmly upon Legolas' brow, " _Ernil_ Legolas _lasto beth nîn_."

Elrohir bit his lip nervously as he watched his Father work. He really, really did not want to see Legolas succumb to grief, despair and darkness. He knew that perhaps he cared a bit too much – after all he barely even knew Legolas. In fact he knew nothing of the _ellon_ at all save his name and parentage. Yet Elrohir was desperate for him to make it; desperate to see an elf survive the horrors that came with grief and loss that gnawed away at the _fëa_. Elrohir didn't want another elf to suffer the same fate as his _Naneth_ ; didn't want another family to be torn asunder by loss. He didn't want Legolas to die because he had been too weak.

For whatever his _Adar_ said Elrohir still felt badly about the fact he could not bring Legolas back into the light after having already been unable to save Faervel. He would not be able to bear it if they both passed.

Elrohir bit down on his lip a bit harder as he watched a deep frown appear on his _Adar's_ face. It seemed his _Adar_ really did have a struggle on his hands and Elrohir was hard pressed not to walk up and lend his _Adar_ what strength he could. But he was already quite drained and Elladan would have a fit if he heard about it – not to mention he did not want to break his _Adar's_ concentration. That could be dangerous. Still, he felt useless as he simply sat and watched his _Adar_ attempt to heal what he could not.

Elrohir knew he could leave – should leave – and go freshen himself up and take some rest before he keeled over. Yet he could not make himself leave the room, eyes riveted to where his _Adar_ worked furiously. Unconsciously Elrohir brought his hand up to his dishevelled braids and began to fiddle and play with them – a long time nervous habit.

Please _Adar,_ Elrohir whispered, please save him.

**~o~**

Elrond tried desperately to push through all the gloom and darkness that threatened to envelope him. He still could not see Legolas' _fëa_ at all but he could at least feel it now – though he did not like what he felt. It felt very faint, very weak and so far away. It was truly no surprise Elrohir had had such a hard time of it.

Elrond forced himself to concentrate hard and he called forth more power from Vilya – a good deal more than he would have liked to use on Legolas in the condition he was in but it could not be helped. He had to do something, somehow to pierce the gloom, reach Legolas and call him back. Vilya did not disappoint; the inky blackness parted hurriedly, desperate to get away from so pure and righteous a light to reveal a small, dark forlorn looking figure.

Elrond slowly moved closer, careful to maintain the level of Vilya's power until he stood right next to the figure – Legolas. Elrond looked him over, worried that the Prince had not yet reacted to neither his presence nor Vilya's. Closer inspection showed that Legolas slept, eyes firmly shut and he was completely swaddled in darkness.

Elrond was really worried then. The Prince had gotten so comfortable in the darkness that he had wrapped himself up in it and not only that, he was dangerously close the edge. Elrond wasted no time and shook the Prince hard even as he tried to unwind the black cloak of gloom from around him. It was proving rather difficult though – Legolas did not so much as flinch and the bleak blanket that surrounded him refused to be removed. Instead the treacherous darkness wound itself tighter and tighter around the Prince in impossible tangles.

It would not be removed easily without some aid from Legolas who had sought it out in the first place. Once Elrond realised this he shook the Prince even harder – he had to rouse Legolas before the devious dark smothered him all together.

The Peredhil Lord again upped the power of Vilya by a fraction and called in a strong voice, " _Ernil_ Legolas _lasto beth nîn_. Wake up now; _tolo dan nan galad._ "

**~o~**

"… _dan nan galad._ "

A loud call and shake of his shoulder disturbed Legolas slightly and he shifted. He was unsure of what the noise was, where it had come from and why he had been shaken but he wasn't overly concerned with finding out either. He was quite content where he was and had no intention of moving or doing anything save ignore it and return to his blissfully blank slumber.

Unfortunately for him the call simply grew louder when he did not respond.

"Come now, awaken."

It was harder to ignore that time but still Legolas did not stir – he was far, far too comfortable and he hoped that if he simply ignored the call then it would stop and go away.

No such luck.

"You must awaken; come back into the light!"

He was given another hard shake, one that was entirely impossible to ignore and Legolas slowly pried his eyes open. He instantly regretted it. A hideously bright blue light flooded his senses and he clamped his eyes shut and made a sound of pained disgust. What was that light? When last he was aware this had been a lovely, dark, quiet, pain free place. Now it was anything but, Legolas mussed, annoyed at yet another shake and pleading call.

"Too bright," the Prince muttered in the general vicinity of the one who was so keen to disturb him.

"Nay it is far too dark in this place – the light is perfect and needed. Come now _Ernil_ Legolas – open your eyes, throw off this darkness you shroud yourself in and follow me."

Legolas frowned as the voice called him by name. How did it know him? Blearily he forced first one eye open and let it get adjusted to the brightness before he pried the other open. The Prince squinted as he tried to see the source of the voice and light to no avail. He shook his head and closed his eyes as he tried to remember where exactly he was.

"No do not close your eyes again, you must wake up and come with me Princeling."

Princeling? Why was this voice so familiar with him when he had no idea who it was?

Legolas opened his eyes and peered toward the voice again, "How do you know me? I do not recognise your presence."

The light moved slightly and Legolas was at last able to see whom he spoke with. A tall, darkling elf millennia older than he smiled at him warmly.

"We have not met before tis true but I am here to help, you needn't be afraid of anything."

Legolas wasn't so sure; he could feel the power that radiated off the other and he wasn't entirely sure the other did indeed have his best interests in mind. For though the other looked like an elf the power that flowed forth from him felt foreign to Legolas – the Prince had never felt such power come from any elf before. The power was strong and cold and its magnitude scared Legolas just the tiniest bit.

Not to mention Legolas still struggled to remember where exactly he was and why. It was all making him feel a bit vulnerable and he moved backwards to create some space between him and the stranger. Or at least he tried. To his shock he found himself unable to move firmly entangled by some soft, dark mass that was wrapped round him like a blanket. Legolas stared at it. What was it? Where was he? Why was his mind so blank? So full of dark, empty dreams?

"Where are we? And who are you? You've said you are here to help me but why do I need help?"

The voice gave a small sigh, "I see the darkness has been hard at work on you; already it has fogged your mind. My name is Lord Elrond, my sons – Elladan and Elrohir - brought you to my home in Imladris in order to help you. Do you remember any of that?"

Legolas scrunched up his face and thought hard. The memory was there just out of reach, as though hidden by a veil.

The voice – Elrond – spoke again, "My sons found you and your companion…a Lord Faervel I was told he was called, in the Misty Mountains."

At the name all memory came flooding back to Legolas and he gasped aloud in pain.

Faervel. Faervel was dead.

Legolas closed his eyes and hung his head. Yes, he remembered now why he had sought refuge in such a dark place. Here there was no pain, no grief, no guilt.

Or at least there was none when he was left in peace without bright lights or overly concerned, kind voices pleading with him.

"Do you remember now _Ernil_ Legolas? Will you come with me now?" The voice was low and gentle now. Coaxing.

"Nay." Legolas turned his head from Elrond and the light and prepared to hunker down in his blanket of darkness.

"Surely you do not mean to stay here alone in the dark?"

"I deserve to be alone," Legolas ground out, "I will not come back with you. It is cowardly but I cannot face the grief and pain that I know awaits me."

"You cannot stay here forever Princeling; the longer your _fëa_ lingers here the more the darkness will consume you until your spirit fades completely. Indeed it has already begun."

Elrond gestured to the thick black shroud that held Legolas snug and immobile. "Find your strength _penneth_ and leave this place with me. Things seem bleak now but they will get better over time. All things pass with time."

Legolas closed his eyes and settled himself more comfortably, "This will never pass. Faervel was so, so very dear to me and now…now…" Legolas struggled as he tried to hold back a sob and fell silent as he took a moment to compose himself.

"Oh _penneth_ I know the grief you feel, the despair – trust me I know it personally and all too well. But I promise you that one day you will look back on your memories of Faervel and smile. You _will_ heal in time. Besides, what of your friends and family that await you? Surely they will be worried beyond measure by now? Don't you think your _Adar_ will be frantic over your prolonged disappearance?"

Legolas bit his lip, while he very much doubted what Elrond said in regard to his pain over Faervel he did feel a pang of guilt over his family. Perhaps he ought to listen to Elrond solely because of that point?

Legolas thought of his family – his _Adar_ , Rithel and Thanniel of course – they would all have been worried out of their minds once they had received word of his plight. Even now he could imagine his _Adar_ sending out troop after troop to scour the forest for him; his _Adar_ was such a worrier, he would definitely be out of his mind with anxiety by now. A trickle of guilt began to weaken Legolas' resolve to stay in the pain free darkness – he really ought to go back with Elrond and leave the darkness behind for the sake of his family in spite of whatever grief and pain awaited him.

**~o~**

The Darkness felt this however and had other ideas. It would not give up those who came to it willingly as easily as all that. It tightened itself about the Prince in its clutches and gave a squeeze full of evil and mal-intent. It would _not_ let go of this prize.

**~o~**

Just as Legolas had decided to follow Elrond and leave the dank darkness a flurry of thoughts came to him unbidden.

_Why should he feel guilty over causing his Adar to worry? After all was it not his Adar's fault that Legolas had suffered the loss of his best friend? His Adar was King, the very same King who had recruited Faervel as his bodyguard. Had Faervel not been his bodyguard his friend would never have felt the urge to follow him into mortal danger. Had Faervel not been his bodyguard he would still be alive. Worse that all that however was the fact that his Adar had had the gall to lie and cover up the fact he had recruited Faervel as his bodyguard for centuries._

A frown crossed Legolas' face, "Leave me be Lord Elrond. This is not your concern. I shall stay here – there are none who will be concerned for me back home least of all my _Adar._ Now please go, I have come here for peace and you are disturbing it."

With that Legolas turned his back on Elrond and his piercing light, pulled his shroud of dark around him even more firmly and shut his eyes determined to ignore the elder's presence until he saw sense and left Legolas in peace.

Almost as soon as the Prince shut his eyes he fell back into his dark, blank, comfortable and grief free dreams once more.

**~o~**

Elrond stepped back in shock at the anger and vehemence in the Prince's voice as he insisted that there was none who cared for or worried over him. Elrond remembered when he and Thranduil were still on speaking terms, when they had still been friends; he had seen how deeply the blonde _ellon_ had cared for and loved his wife and young daughter and he knew that that love would have been extended to Legolas as well. Thranduil may be an over loud, difficult, haughty bastard but Elrond knew that there was no way Thranduil would not care whether his son lived or died. Elrond _knew_ without a shadow of a doubt that the King would be destroyed should it come to Legolas' death.

The Peredhil Lord frowned fiercely.

Those words and thoughts were not from Legolas but from the Darkness that wanted to keep him and devour him whole.

Elrond would not allow it.

The Peredhil Lord drew a little of Vilya's power into himself and then spoke directly to the thick black mass that shrouded Legolas.

"Let him go _now_ minion of gloom. I know very well those words and thoughts were not the Prince's own but ones you planted in his head and in his heart." Elrond let his voice get louder, "I shall _not_ let you have him. He is a creature of love and light and you will let go – now!"

The unfathomable gloom remained just as eerily silent and oppressive as it had been before and Elrond growled. He was not one to be ignored. Slowly he gathered Vilya's light and power to his hand and focused it so that it took the form of brightly glowing dagger.

Elrond held it tightly and called out once more in a deep, angry voice, "Will you not heed me malevolent one? I shall say it only once more. Let this young elf go."

As Elrond had expected a deafening silence met him – almost as if the Darkness mocked him but Elrond cared not and instead focused on Vilya's now dagger shaped power. He had hoped that he wouldn't have had to put quite so much of Vila's power into play for it was strong, difficult and extremely exhausting to control but needs must. He would not let Legolas' light be consumed by darkness.

Elrond stepped closer to Legolas and used the Vilya dagger to begin to cut and burn away the dark shroud that wrapped the Prince snugly.

The Darkness' reaction was instant and loud.

" **What do you think you are doing wretched creature of light? What is that? Get it away from my elf now damn you! He is mine now you fool, he came to me, he sought me out and I helped him. I helped when you and your light and goodness could not. He has peace now – do not disturb him.** "

Elrond was flung to his feet by the force of the anger projected at him by the evil Dark but he stood to his feet and carried on regardless, "What do you know of peace? You know only evil and despair, anger and hate, gloom and shadow. He will find no true rest in you and you do not intend him to." Elrond hacked hard at the bleak blanket which was at last starting to give way, "You intend to devour his very soul, to suck all light and love out of him so that he will join you in the void as desolate as you are. You intend to kill him!"

Elrond grinned triumphantly as he at last cut back enough of the blackness holding Legolas in place and he flung it off to one side before he paled at what he saw below.

The Darkness laughed – it was cruel and cold and echoed unnervingly, " **Foolish light lover, did I not tell you that he is mine now? Think that you could free him so easily?** "

Elrond said nothing as he stared in muted horror at what was before him. For though he had managed to cut away the dark blanket in which Legolas had seemed to take so much refuge, there underneath it lay a grim sight.

Thin, horrid tentacles of inky blackness and wound themselves tight around Legolas and pierced his very soul.

Elrond stared in dismay – he knew the Prince had been hurting but he had not known the extent of it. Clearly the Darkness had used that to its full advantage and had taken the opportunity to invade Legolas' mind and soul and pump him full of dark, erroneous, despair ridden thoughts that would have been cleverly disguised as comfort. Elrond grit his teeth and gave a low growl as he tossed himself to his knees close to the still oblivious Prince. Vilya had proven a strong enough light to cut away the dark shroud and it would do the same again to these tentacles.

The Peredhil Lord wasted no time and attacked instantly using Vilya to cut through the thin, black strands. The Darkness only laughed its cruel, cold laugh again and Elrond soon found out why as he cut through the first tentacle and Legolas screamed.

It was a long agonised and painful wail as the Prince suddenly jerked out of his slumber and howled before desperately clutching the spot where the tentacle had been. Blue watery eyes full of hurt shock were turned upon Elrond.

"Why? Why do you hurt me?"

" **Yes Peredhil bringer of light and pain, why do you hurt him? He is my charge and all I wish is to take care of him in peace.** "

Legolas looked round in a wild eyed and frightened way, "Who…wh-who is…what _was_ that?" the Prince enquired fearfully.

"It is nothing but pure ev-" Elrond was cut off as the deep booming voice of the Darkness interrupted and tried its best to sound more genteel and comforting.

" **I am your saviour little elf. Do you not remember? You came to me willingly and I have embraced you in my arms and have helped you find the peace you seek. It is that trouble maker with his bright light and false promises who brings you pain now.** " The Darkness extended another inky blanket toward Legolas, " **Come little one you are safe with me.** "

Elrond shouted, "Nay Legolas! Do not do it please! This the way of evil, the way of Darkness – its words are as smooth as honey, delicious and sweet – but if you pay heed you will fall to your doom."

Legolas directed wounded eyes up at the Peredhil, "But it is you who hurt me. I was ok, I was… I was fine – tis you who have hurt me now."

"And for that I am so sorry _penneth_ , I did not know how deeply entwined with the Darkness you were. Please believe it was not my intent to hurt you."

Legolas still looked unconvinced as he threw a look at the bright, pure light dagger that Elrond still held. The elf Lord immediately let loose his rigid control keeping Vilya's power in that shape and let it form a small round ball instead with a bit less raw power.

"I promise I will not hurt you any more _penneth_ , please trust me. I mean you no harm."

Elrond knelt at Legolas' side before holding out the ball of light he had condensed Vilya's power into. He held it near one tentacle and Legolas flinched but he did not scream this time and Elrond let out a happy sigh of relief as the black tentacle fell off with no ill effect on Legolas. He had found the right approach. Quickly Elrond swept his hand over Legolas in a wide arc intending to free him once and for all.

The tentacles fell off easily one by one and with each one that fell Legolas' _fëa_ looked a little brighter.

Then suddenly an ear splitting howl rent the air.

" **No! You will not have him. He. Is. Mine**." With that the Darkness shot out a great many more tentacles seemingly from everywhere each one with a sharp pointed tip, " **He will never leave me – he is mine now light lover. I will have him, I will hold him, I will help him. Do not be fooled by the one who brings the light little one – your true place, the place where you will find happiness again – is with me. You must remain here.** "

The Darkness waved its sharp tipped tentacles around Elrond menacingly, " **Leave now and the child will remain unharmed. Stay and I will have you both.** "

Elrond was unafraid and simply let Vilya's power extend into an overlong sword, placed himself in front of Legolas' prone form as a shield and neatly and efficiently blocked and cut off every tentacle that the evil Dark launched at him.

The Darkness only laughed however, " **You tire yourself out elf Lord. Will you really waste so much time, power and energy to try and take what is now mine?** "

Elrond grit his teeth as he began to really feel the strain of wielding Vilya for such an extended amount of time and at such a high intensity but he continued to defend Legolas from the probing pointed tentacles. He did not want them to touch the Prince at all for he was sure they would prove very damaging to the Prince's already battered _fëa._

And for the moment, despite Elrond's increasing weariness he had the upper hand and had managed to deflect every attack thrown his way.

He knew it would not last though. He could feel his energy slowly ebbing away to dangerously low levels and he could also feel his control over Vilya slipping – a potentially harmful situation for both he and Legolas. He would have to withdraw – and soon if he were not to cause both himself and Legolas grievous hurt.

That was why whilst Elrond fought against the Darkness he had been rather sneakily pushing light and love into the blonde Prince hoping to strengthen him against another short spell in the dank gloom. For Elrond knew now he would be unable to bring the Prince back with him – not unless he managed to convince Legolas to leave of his own free will and so far that looked unlikely.

As it was Elrond had spent far too much power and energy battling against the Dark that snared Legolas. He would have to retreat, take some rest and perhaps try again tomorrow; but Elrond was determined not to leave the Prince at the mercy of the treacherous Dark alone. And so he slowly pushed love and light into Legolas to act as an anchor that would keep him strong against whatever moves the Darkness would try once Elrond withdrew from the Prince's mind. The love and light would tether Legolas and hopefully keep him a safe distance from the abyss.

Elrond forced another wave of warmth, calm and love - bigger than the ones previously - into Legolas. The Peredhil Lord had reached his end and planned to withdraw as soon as he was sure Legolas' _fëa_ was well anchored in the light. His drop in subtlety caught the attention of the Darkness almost immediately.

" **What… what did you** _ **do**_ **elf?** "

Elrond fell flat on his back for a second time as the question was bellowed at him followed by a wave of intense hatred. He tried to stand but was forced to the ground as another wave of loathing was thrown at him.

" **I warned you did I not elf of light? But you would not leave, you would not heed me so now you will pay. You shall not have him!** " The Darkness was enraged and took its opportunity with Elrond still floored. It lashed out with a thick black tentacle and slapped at Elrond who was sent flying.

The blow had _hurt_ , more than Elrond liked to admit and with muted horror he watched as the same tentacle that had sent him flying wrapped itself tight around Legolas and pulled.

It pulled him straight toward the abyss and maniacal laughter rang out from seemingly everywhere, " **Mine, mine, mine – this little elf is mine. It's over Peredhil.** "

The Darkness gave another hard yank no longer gentle with the elf Prince it had claimed to want to protect and help.

Legolas screamed.

**~o~**

Legolas screamed again as the thick, blackness around him squeezed him all the tighter and continued to drag him toward the abyss. Pain shot all through his being and dozens of dark thoughts suddenly filled his mind. Thoughts that told him he was unwanted, unloved, uncared for; thoughts that told him he was better off in the gloom where he would be able to remain pain free. Nobody missed him out there – least of all his deceitful _Adar,_ he was wanted here at least. He should stay for the Darkness would take care of him – always.

Legolas was absolutely terrified now – all he had wanted when he came to this place was peace and somehow he had found himself in the midst of a tug of war for his _fëa_.

Literally.

For Lord Elrond had been doing _something_ to him whilst he had been battling the dark being in the void (Legolas was still unsure _what_ or _who_ the deep, terrifying voice was) and now as a result Legolas seemed to be anchored in place by the Peredhil Lord's pure bright light. Light that gave him alternative happier thoughts. Thoughts that told him that actually he was deeply loved and desperately missed; thoughts that said he should return to the light and use the love of his friends and family to heal and overcome his grief. Thoughts that told him none of this was his fault, he was not to blame and he ought not to feel guilty.

Legolas struggled to separate one thought from the other – both good and bad thoughts spiralled round his mind and made a very confusing combination that saw Legolas clutch at his head desperate to make it all stop and be silent once again.

The Prince jerked to a sudden stop as the dark tentacle around him struggled and was unable to pull him any further toward his doom due to the light that tethered him firmly in place. It gave another huge pull and Legolas cried aloud again in pain as the light that held him in place refused to budge. His mind remained under assault as both the Light and the Dark tried desperately to convince him over to their respective sides and Legolas could take no more.

"Help me Lord Elrond! You claimed you wanted to help me so please do so now – before I am torn in two." Legolas was unable to stop the sheer panic that flooded his voice.

Elrond hauled himself up to his feet with a groan and dragged himself toward to Legolas, "You will not be pulled over the edge right away as I have tethered you to the Light…"

" **Ha foolish elves nothing will ever stand against the Dark – your light is meaningless – and you will be mine little one.** "

Legolas began to try and pull himself backwards away from the edge just as desperate to get away from it as the Darkness was desperate to pull him over it.

"Legolas please remain calm _penneth_ you will -"

Legolas cut the Peredhil off as he felt another painful tug by the blackness on his soul accompanied by a wave of even darker thoughts, "I am not sure that this light of yours will hold much longer Lord Elrond please, please tell me what I need to do. Please!"

Legolas screamed as he struggled all the harder – he was really scared – he hadn't ever had any real intention of throwing himself off the abyss and the thought that he could now be pulled over it against his will terrified him.

Peace.

Peace from his grief and guilt was all Legolas had ever wanted but retreating so far into the darkness had clearly been a mistake. All he had wanted was a break from his exhausting and heart rending emotions – not a fight for his very soul and he screamed again.

"Help me!" Legolas struggled even more furiously as he tried in vain to claw the blackness off him. It pulled again only to meet resistance from the light that tethered him and the maelstrom of thoughts, both Light and Dark, bombarded him with even more force.

He was loved, he was unwanted; it was not his fault, it was _all_ his fault.

"Help!" Legolas shook his head – he just wanted it all to stop. Silence. He just wanted silence. It was all too much for him. Legolas did not even know where the thoughts were coming from. Did they belong to him? Or did they come from the outside? Why was this happening to him? He just wanted to leave this place and never return.

"Legolas! Legolas! Cease your struggling the answer is simple; please Legolas just look at me and listen."

" **Ignore him little one – has he not brought you down to where you are now? You are in pain and it is his fault. You had peace with me did you not?** "

"Legolas! _Lasto beth_ nîn," Lord Elrond tried desperately to get his attention and Legolas at last looked up at him wild eyed with fear and confusion due to the war of conflicting thoughts that raged in his mind.

"I want to leave here Lord Elrond, please before I lose my mind, help me – this…" Legolas choked back a sob, "This is too much, too much conflict – I will be torn asunder, please…"

" **Forget him little one – only I hold the help you seek.** "

Legolas flinched at both the thunderous voice and the squeeze of the Darkness around him.

Lord Elrond to a swift step closer and placed a comforting arm around Legolas' shoulder, "I am sorry _penneth_ , I did not mean to add to your burden - my only intention was to strengthen you against the Darkness. I did not realise that my Light would clash so violently with the Darkness and cause you pain."

"Please just make it stop _Hir-nin_ ," Legolas was so very, very tired now.

"I will Legolas, I will. _Lasto beth nîn_ Princeling, just listen to my voice and follow it and me. I will lead you out of here – back into the Light – and all this will stop. All will be well I promise."

" **Promises are naught but lies on the lips of those such as him; do not listen little one – do not succumb.** "

Legolas closed his eyes – he was so tired of being pulled back and forth between the realms of Light and Dark. He knew he would have to make choice or he would be stuck in this torturous twilight zone between the two forever. The Prince considered the contradictory thoughts that still barraged him for a moment more then opened his eyes.

He had made his choice. If he went back with Lord Elrond and left the Darkness behind there would be pain – he would have to face up to his grief and guilt - but if he stayed here he would surely die. For as much as the dark, booming voice proclaimed to be his friend and to want to help him it had also slipped up a few times and said something rather disconcerting – that Legolas would belong to it. That sounded rather ominous and final and the Prince was not keen to find out what that meant in any detail. The dark voice also seemed to be in control of the thick, black tentacle that even now still tugged and tried to pull him over the edge.

No Legolas was sure of his choice – the Darkness could not be trusted and Legolas had spent more than enough time in its treacherous embrace.

"Lead the way Lord Elrond – take me home."

The dark voice howled in fury and frustration as Legolas turned his back and began to follow Lord Elrond's soothing voice and bright blue light. The black tentacle around the Prince suddenly lost its grip and power.

The Darkness no longer held any sway over Legolas and with every step the Prince took his surroundings grew lighter as did his _fëa._ The conflicting thoughts had melted away into nothing and Legolas gave a little smile.

He was free and he would never make the mistake of flirting with the Shadow realm ever again.

**~o~**

"- and with that the court for today is dismissed. I thank our witnesses for their testimonies and insights into this case. The council will convene over the next two days to discuss the evidence, testimonies and statements given here today before they give their verdict on the _edain_ who stand accused. Again thank you all – court is dismissed."

Thranduil nearly sighed in relief as Arahaelon at last brought the day's rather trying proceedings to a close. All afternoon long there had been a rather weird fluttering in his chest that emanated from his bond with Legolas – not painful but disconcerting nonetheless and Thranduil could not wait to get away so he could see Calelon and find out the meaning behind this latest development.

Thranduil stood and caused all in the room to rise to their feet as well. " _Hannon-le_ Lord Arahaelon. Guards if you would please escort the _edain_ back to the dungeons. Everyone else I thank you kindly for attending court today, your help and assistance in this case is much appreciated. You are all free to go."

Thranduil scowled down at the men as they were lead out of the room. He had hoped that after the men's leader, Blacwin, had confessed as guilty to all the charges brought against him the rest of the men would follow suit and therefore spare Legolas' troop the ordeal of testifying. However not a single one of the other men had pleaded guilty as Blacwin had. They had instead all vehemently declared their innocence; one even going so far as to claim he had been wrongly included with the band of mercenaries and that he was naught but a farm hand taking an extended break.

Their lies and unwillingness to show any remorse for their actions and the suffering they had caused had really riled Thranduil. Had they all pleaded guilty and accepted their fault in this case Thranduil would even have been willing to grant them some leniency when it came to deciding on their punishment.

Now however, after having to sit through hours of statements and testimonies by his already traumatised warriors the elven King was going to push for the strongest means of punishment for all the men save Blacwin. Blacwin it seemed had at last realised the error of his ways and was willing to make amends. Thranduil respected that and would see to it that the man would be shown some modicum of mercy.

Thranduil stood and made his way down from his throne irritably and with no small amount of worry; despite all that he had heard from both his own warriors and the _edain_ he still had no further leads on Legolas' whereabouts. It was frustrating in the extreme and Thranduil could only hope that Rithel's idea of using the blood hounds would yield some results.

Otherwise Thranduil would be faced with the decision on whether to risk the lives of half his army to scour the warg, orc and goblin infested Mountains or whether to cut his losses and abandon hope of finding either Faervel's body or his son alive. After all was the life of one elf (even if it was his son) worth more than all the other elven lives Thranduil would be risking if he sent his army into the Misty Mountains?

Thranduil forcefully pushed those thoughts aside as he strode across the throne room intent on heading to the healing ward. He would not contemplate such decisions just yet. Not unless he had news that the blood hounds had failed and every other viable option was spent.

Until then Thranduil would hold to what little hope remained.

Thranduil exited the room to find his daughter, Rithel, on the other side awaiting him. The elven King extended his arm to her and she took it gratefully.

"I take it you too felt the odd sensations that have been coming from the bond with Legolas?" Thranduil glanced at his daughter as they walked.

"Yes _Adar_ , and I have no idea what it could mean."

"Nor do I my child, come let us see if Calelon can enlighten us. Hopefully he will give us cause for hope and not further despair."

The regal pair made their way swiftly through the corridors each caught up in their own worries for their beloved _Lasseg._

**~o~**

" _Adar_ , please _Adar_ awaken," Elrohir gave his _Adar's_ shoulder a rougher shake than he had before even as his twin yelled something similar alongside him and mirrored his actions.

Elrond hadn't been too long in his healing trance before he had begun to show signs of stress. Still Elrohir knew from his own experience that his _Adar_ would have a fight on his hands and he hadn't been overly concerned then – simply kept keen eyes on his _Adar_ should he need any assistance.

Elladan had returned then in need of his _Adar's_ seal – for Erestor had said that if the letter bore Elrond's own personal seal it was likely to be read by the Woodland King straight away. Yet Elrond was still in the trance and Elladan had settled down beside Elrohir to wait for their _Adar_ to come out of the trance.

The healing trance continued on and on however, the minutes rapidly ticked by and the power surrounding Elrond continued to grow until the twins and Elrond's assistants had to take a few steps back due to the intensity of it and _that_ was when Elrohir had begun to get worried. The fact that his _Adar_ needed to use quite so much power in order to call Legolas back into the light was quite disconcerting not to mention the fact that despite all that his _Adar_ still didn't seem to be having any success if Legolas' limp, lifeless looking body was any indication.

That had gone one for a few long minutes before at last Elrond's power seemed to hit a peak and stabilise. Any little relief Elrohir had felt however did not last long as all of a sudden Legolas' body had given an almighty jerk before it began to thrash violently on the bed. The Prince's eyes rolled wildly under closed lids even as his mouth opened and closed in silent screams. They had all rushed forward to try and hold Legolas down –to keep him from injuring himself any further but it had been difficult. The Prince's body had flailed wildly and violently and by the time they had managed to restrain him he had unfortunately torn several of his stiches and had bitten down deep into both his tongue and his bottom lip and crimson blood bathed both Legolas' sheets and his chin. Then, just as suddenly as the Prince's thrashing had begun it stopped and that was when Elrond had collapsed onto Legolas much like Elrohir had back in the Ranger village.

And as Elrohir now shook his _Adar_ frantically in an effort to awaken him he could not help but wonder if this was how Elladan had felt back then – hopeless and terrified. For that was how Elrohir felt as he gave his _Adar_ another rough shake.

"Wake up _Adar_ please – come back - can you not hear me? _Lasto beth nîn_ ," Elrohir felt truly desperate now and his twin was just as frantic beside him.

"I will push my own energy into him now Elro – perhaps that will lend him enough strength to bring himself back."

"Nay," Elrohir smacked Elladan's hand away, "Tis dangerous to interrupt a healing trance like that Ladan, especially when you have little training in doing so."

"But what then shall we do?" Elladan demanded and Elrohir could see the naked fear in his twin's eyes.

Elrohir opened his mouth before he closed it again – his mind a complete blank. He had no idea what to do. His healing training, though advanced, had never covered anything such as this.

A gasping inhalation of breath from his _Adar_ snapped Elrohir's attention away from his twin and much to his relief he watched as his _Adar_ blearily pulled himself upright.

" _Adar_! You are awake."

" _Ai Valar Adar_ I was so scared."

"Lord Elrond you are well. Praise the _Valar_."

Elrond slowly sat up before he leaned back in his chair exhaustion clear on his features, "Aye, I am well. Worry not."

The Peredhil Lord reached a trembling hand out to touch Legolas' chest and Elrohir was too scared to ask whether his _Adar_ had been successful and simply held his breath and watched instead.

To his immense relief he watched as Legolas' bruised eyelids fluttered open to reveal fever bright but lucid blue eyes.

"You did it _Adar_ ," Elladan breathed, "You brought him back."

Elrohir crowed, "I _knew_ you could do it _Adar_."

" _H-h-hannon-le Hir-nin_ ," Legolas' breathless, croaky offer of thanks had all eyes in the room on him in an instant and Elrohir could not help but smile at the fact that Legolas was alive and no longer in danger of losing his soul to despair. He had been saved.

"You are most welcome Princeling," replied Elrond as he heaved himself out of his sitting position, "I am sorry the process was so hard on you but I promise that you are in good hands now - you will be well on your way to recovery soon enough."

Elrohir walked up to the blonde's bedside and beamed at him, " _Suilad_ Legolas – it is good to see you conscious and in the land of the living once again."

Elladan joined him and gave the Prince a small smile, "Your _Adar_ will be thrilled with the news. We will send him word straight away."

"Th-thank y-you both," Legolas forced his voice to carry a little louder. "I am blessed indeed to have been able to find friendship even amidst my loss. I will be forever grateful."

**~o~**

Elladan watched as the carrier pigeon took flight, important message tightly secured.

"Swift journey little one for the news you carry will greatly relieve an elven King. _Hortho le huil vaer."_

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adan – Man
> 
> Ellon – Male elf
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Ernil – Prince
> 
> Lasto beth nîn – Listen to my voice
> 
> Naneth - Mother
> 
> Tolo Dan Nan Galad – Come back to the Light
> 
> Penneth – Young One
> 
> Hir-nin – My Lord
> 
> Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas
> 
> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Suilad – Greetings
> 
> Hortho le huil vaer – May useful winds speed you on
> 
> A/N: So do let me know what you think – even if it's just a one liner – I tried out quite a few things I've never done before here and hopefully they worked and the chapter was enjoyable. Also a massive thank you to Karleen my beautiful beta!


	32. Chapter 32

_**A/N: Bit of a hefty one this chapter but I couldn't find a suitable place to cut it any sooner. Hope you all enjoy!** _

Thranduil sipped slowly and contemplatively at his rather large glass of Dorwinion. He knew that he really ought not to be drinking so very early in the day; indeed the new day hadn't even truly begun as yet. The inky blackness of night had only just begun to give way to the murky dusk that came before the brilliant rose and gold tints that heralded sunrise yet Thranduil drank anyway.

As had become usual since Legolas' disappearance the elven King had been unable to find any meaningful amount of sleep and had abandoned the effort long ago in favour of catching up on his paperwork. However, much to his annoyance there had been very little paperwork to catch up on – a side effect of so many prior sleepless yet productive nights. He'd finished with all his paperwork hours ago and that had left him in a quandary. With his paperwork well up to date that left Thranduil with nothing productive to do that would help keep his mind from wandering down dark paths.

He could have gone for a walk or even out to his personal training grounds for a light sparring session – being active and productive always made Thranduil feel good. Yet his prolonged insomnia had left him without the energy needed for either endeavour and so he had turned to his drinks cabinet and his beloved Dorwinion. The potent drink had seen him through many a rough night in the past, easing worries and dulling fears and pains and Thranduil hoped it would do so once again. Of course the elven King knew it was wrong, dangerous even, to depend on alcohol for solace but right now he just didn't care. Thranduil had a pressing need to dull the pain that Legolas' capture had inflicted upon his _fëa_.

Because it hurt.

It hurt so very much to know that Legolas was out there in the unkind, uncaring hands of mercenaries who intended to sell him; mercenaries who for some inexplicable reason had dragged him up into the cold, dankness of the Misty Mountains. His precious only son was far, far away _Eru_ only knew where, hurting and hanging onto his life by a thread and there was not a damn thing Thranduil could do about it.

Anger flared momentarily before it was promptly crushed by the much heavier aching feelings of fear, anguish and worry. Thranduil took another deep drink and finished off the wine in his glass with a sigh. The not yet finished bottle of Dorwinion twinkled at him, beckoned him to pour himself another generous glass of the deep ruby liquid but Thranduil pushed it and the glass away from himself as he gathered his self-control. Now was not the time for drinking himself into a senseless stupor; he had an awfully long day ahead of him and no matter how much he wished it otherwise at times he was King and he had to face his duties with the dignity and grace expected of him.

Thranduil rubbed a hand over his weary face and rubbed at his bleary eyes as he thought of the torturous day ahead. Firstly he was expecting a missive from the warriors out on the search with the bloodhounds. He was both eager and at the same time filled with dread at the thought of what their report might entail. Thranduil really did not know what news to expect and just thinking of it made him feel breathless with worry.

Then there would be breakfast with Lady Ìdhes and Aglardaer as they planned a fitting memorial service for Faervel and updated his _Naneth_ on the search for his _h_ _röa_ _._ Thranduil was absolutely dreading it. Usually he was never so intimately involved with the memorial services for any of his fallen warriors - yet this was Faervel. The happy go lucky, brave and incredibly loyal _ellon_ that had pledged his life in service to protect Thranduil's own son and had ultimately died in fulfilling said pledge. Thranduil was determined to show his deep respect and gratitude and would see to it that Faervel's sacrifice was properly awarded. Still the King was sure it would be a difficult and grief filled meeting hence his dread.

Then as if his morning would not be difficult enough there would then be the meeting with his court officials and councillors to deliberate over what sentences should be passed upon the _edain_ held in the dungeons. Thranduil scowled into his flickering fireplace. _He_ had no doubt whatsoever as to what punishment the men should receive. Yet he knew he would have to sit through hours of deliberation as his council um'd and ah'd over very possible outcome. The very thought was almost enough to bring tears to Thranduil's tired eyes which he rubbed again forcefully before he stood up.

Perhaps a long, hot soak with his favourite bath oils would help place him in a better mood and frame of mind to deal with the days upcoming trials.

The elven King stalked into his bath chamber to run and prepare his own bath with a grim little smirk. Galion would be horrified when he found out and his reaction would be sure to cheer the King at least a little before he had to face the day.

**~o~**

The page smoothed his silver hair for the hundredth time as he nervously waited upon the King's presence. He dropped his hand back down to his side and kept his gaze on the scroll he held tightly in his other hand. The scroll was sealed and stamped in red signalling the urgency of the missive inside, marked for the special attention of the King and the page wondered a little apprehensively whether it was good or bad news. The King had been in a frightful temper of late and the page hoped the news he brought would not cause him to experience the King's infamous temper first-hand.

Before he had any time to worry further the door opened and the King and Crown Commander Aglardaer both swept into the room.

" _Suilad singyll_ ," the King greeted him with a beatific smile and the page nearly swooned in relief. It seemed the King was in a much better mood this morn.

"You have a missive for me _singyll_?"

The question snapped the page out of his admiration of the King's stunning smile and he caught himself and bowed low. " _Suilad Aran-nin_ I bring an urgent missive for your kind attention."

The page continued to kneel and kept his eyes to the ground whilst he offered the scroll upon upturned hands to the King.

" _Hannon-le_ , as this is marked as urgent please wait in case I need you to carry back a reply straight away. You may be at ease."

"Yes _Aran-nin_ ," the page dipped lower in his bow before he straightened ready for whatever the King should command of him.

The page did not mean to stare but found he could not help but look at the King as he read with a cool and casual grace holding the missive so that Crown Commander Aglardaer could read along with him.

The King looked up then directly at him and the page was startled to catch a glimpse of raw emotion in the ice blue eyes.

"Crown Commander Aglardaer will provide you with a reply _singyll_. Thank you for your prompt service."

The page nodded and bowed low again as the King swept past him grim faced out of the room. Nervously the page smoothed his hair again; whatever was in that missive had definitely caused the King's bad humour to return and the page felt rather selfishly relieved that the King had decided to leave the Crown Commander to deal with the matter and hadn't 'shot the messenger' so to speak.

Yet as the page pondered the matter whist he awaited the Crown Commander's reply he realised the look he had glimpsed in the King's eyes hadn't spoken of anger but of pure, unbridled grief.

Sudden cold dread seized the page – was it bad news regarding Prince Legolas?

Silently the page sent a small prayer up to _Elbereth_ pleading with the _Vala_ to aid his King in the search for the Prince and to spare the Royal family from any further grief and loss.

**~o~**

Thranduil let the door click shut gently behind him and he stood stock still in the hallway beyond lost in his thoughts.

The news in the missive was not the news he'd been hoping for.

The missive was from the Captains leading up the troops out searching with the bloodhounds and though the hounds had been able to pick up both Legolas' and Faervel's scents initially they had lost them again once they had crossed the Old Ford. The letter went on to state that the troops would remain out on the plains and give the area a thorough search in the hopes of picking up the scents again.

Thranduil grit his teeth – it seemed that the troops held out more hope than he did. The plains before the Misty Mountains were vast and it would be no easy feat for the troops to find a days old scent again – especially if Legolas or Faervel had gone through the Great River rather than over the Old Ford.

" _Aran-nin manen le_?"

Thranduil instantly snapped to attention even as he berated himself for getting caught up in his own thoughts in such a public area as the corridor. The King forced his teeth to unclench and directed a strained smile at the Home Guard warrior that had enquired after him.

"I am fine _maethron_ , I thank you for your concern."

Thranduil forced himself to move slowly, regally down the corridor toward his destination whilst he firmly tamped down on the despair and fear that had stopped him in his tracks just then. He needed to stay positive, needed to hold to hope however slim – the troops still had hope of finding _his_ son and Thranduil needed to do the same.

Feeling the tiniest bit better, a little less crushed in spirit, Thranduil quickened his stride – he really did not want Lady Ìdhes to be kept waiting. Aglardaer would catch him up soon enough.

**~o~**

Blacwin poked miserably at the generous breakfast of honeyed porridge they had been served by their elven guards. To say that the atmosphere in his cell was tense was a grave understatement indeed. None of his so-called men were speaking to him except to inform him from time to time of how much of a sack of shit traitor he was.

Blacwin sighed and stirred the steaming bowl listlessly; if it were not for the fact that their elven guards had kept them wisely manacled and shackled after the trial Blacwin was sure he'd have already come to blows with more than one of the men he was currently housed with. They were all furious with him – both for confessing so freely to the elven King and effectively condemning them all as well as for the fact that Rhon had been shot.

In all honesty Blacwin had felt nothing but immense relief when he had been returned to his cell to find that Rhon had not been shot dead as he'd believed but was indeed still alive – if with a bad arm. Blacwin was relieved to know that he had been right in thinking elves were not such cruel creatures and he had to admit it had been a very clever ploy by the elf King.

Still, Rhon despised him now, the man would not even look in Blacwin's direction and Blacwin was utterly miserable.

Two days. Two days the elves had said it would take them to reach their verdict. Blacwin already knew his of course. Guilty – he had pled as much in front of the elf King – he had seen no point in lying and worsening matters for himself. He could hardly deny the charges laid against him after all. Yet that did not mean Blacwin was any less nervous to discover his punishment. He somehow had the feeling that it would be death. Nay, it was more than a feeling, Blacwin was positive that he would be handed a death sentence and briefly he idly wondered how elves carried out their executions. Would they hang him? Behead him?

Blacwin gave his head a small, firm shake – nothing good would come from pondering such things.

Blacwin finally lifted his spoon to his mouth and savoured the sweet tasted of the porridge before him. He was quite sure that he had little time left to enjoy life's small pleasures such as this so he may as well enjoy what was left to him now.

Feeling at peace since his whole ordeal began Blacwin happily devoured his porridge; his life was near its end but at least things were still not as grim as they could have been.

If anything he was glad that he would be brought to justice at the hands of the elves and he would enjoy the mercies they afforded their prisoners as much as he could whilst he was still able to do so. He would enjoy the fact they were fed three warm and quite frankly delicious meals a day, the stern kindness of the guards and even the opulence and beauty of the dungeons that held him. He could have been eating barely warm, lumpy gruel in some cold, austere mannish prison; but instead he was in a warm, ornately wrought cell shackled with silver manacles and full of hot sweet porridge.

Blacwin did not want to die of course – no one ever willingly embraced death – but it was time for him to face the punishment his long life of crime so richly deserved. Blacwin was only glad it would not be at the infinitely crueller and less merciful hands of his own kind.

Blacwin let his spoon drop into his empty bowl and sent up heartfelt thanks to any deities interested in listening for granting him small mercies and allowing him some semblance of peace in these his last hours.

**~o~**

Legolas gave a small toss of his head and whimpered causing Elrohir to look up from his scroll in mild concern. The ebony haired twin left his reading and walked over to where Legolas slept fitfully. The Prince hadn't managed to stay coherent or awake for very long after Elrond had called him back from the Shadow realm and had slipped into a natural sleep after that.

It was anything but peaceful sleep though, Elrohir observed wryly as he watched the Prince toss his head again and jerk slightly. Usually he would use his healing powers to push a patient's _fëa_ into deeper sleep when they had night terrors to this extent. Yet Elrohir dared not try such a risky procedure on Legolas – not so soon after he had very nearly lost his _fëa_ by straying too far from the light. His _Adar_ had worked far too hard to bring Legolas back – even now Elrond was fast asleep in his chambers as he recovered from the ordeal. Elrohir would do nothing that would jeopardise his _Adar's_ hard work.

So he had let Legolas sleep fitfully and uneasily in the hope that the nightmares would fade and pass on their own. Yet a good few hours had passed now and Legolas' nightmares showed no signs of easing.

Legolas gave another fearful cry. If anything the nightmares were only getting worse and Elrohir could not bear to see the already hurting Prince suffer further agony. It was time to act.

Elrohir crossed the room and lay a cool cloth across Legolas' still fever stricken brow and hoped that the scent of the athelas he used in the water would help calm the Prince's restless mind. Elrohir also opened the window of Legolas' private infirmary room wide and then began to sing. The Peredhil twin hoped that the combination of both the fresh air and his voice would help soothe away Legolas' nightmares and finally allow him a more restful sleep.

It took a good long hour in which Elrohir nearly grew hoarse but at last Legolas stopped his jerking, tossing and stricken murmurs and slipped into peaceful dreamless sleep. Elrohir smiled at the sight, thankful and happy that he'd managed to aid the Prince into finally getting some true healing rest.

The twin settled down with his scroll once more to while away the time whilst he kept watch over his patient and idly wondered how much farther the carrier pigeon Elladan had sent off the previous night would have to go before it arrived with the Woodland King.

**~o~**

"Could I offer you some tea Lady Ìdhes?" Thranduil smiled somewhat sheepishly at his guest, "This was supposed to be a _breakfast_ meeting after all."

The King glanced round at the untouched food on the table before them. He, Aglardaer and Lady Ìdhes had all been so caught up in their planning and arrangements that their sumptuous breakfast – smoked salmon, scrambled eggs and fruit filled muffins – had gone unnoticed. Now that their meeting was about to draw to a close Thranduil realised he'd been a poor host indeed.

"Ah yes please _Aran-nin_ ," Lady Ìdhes smiled and accepted graciously, "I feel as though I could actually drink something now that this is all settled and my stomach is not so tied up in knots."

Thranduil nodded as he poured the now warm chamomile brew, "Shall I send for Galion and have him fetch you in some fresh food as well?" Thranduil waved a hand at their now cold spread, "I am sorry, I've been a poor host _Hiril-nin_."

"Nay do not bother _Aran-nin_. I will have some tea but I've not got much of an appetite. There is no need to trouble Galion."

"Hn," Thranduil made a non-committal noise as he handed Lady Ìdhes her cup. "Grief and worry does indeed dull one's appetite but still I feel I must apologise _Hiril-nin._ I invited you here with the promise of breakfast and you have had none. The King's table is not always so lacking in grace."

Lady Ìdhes gave her King a kind smile, "Of that I am sure _Aran-nin_ , think on it no more."

Thranduil relaxed a slightly, glad that his little faux-pas had been so easily forgiven and brushed aside. Then he stiffened again; if there was to be no more food then it was time for him to bring this meeting to a close and set in motion everything they had spoken of regarding Faervel's memorial service. Thranduil held back a little sigh as it suddenly all became very, very real.

The King took a small but deep fortifying breath before giving the best comforting smile he could manage just then, "Now _Hiril-nin,_ is everything we discussed to your liking? If so I will sign the papers and have everything set into motion for Faervel's remembrance service to be held tomorrow."

It was rather soon, holding the service the very next day yet it was Woodland custom to cremate and remember the dead within ten days of their passing. The tradition stemmed from an old Silvan belief that the longer the _h_ _röa_ remained uncommitted to the care of _Mandos_ the more likely it was that the _fëa_ would wander too far and become one of the Houseless.

Thranduil personally did not believe in the tales (he barely believed in the _Valar_ ) yet the tradition had taken a firm hold of his people and it was strictly adhered to wherever possible. For those rare cases where the required ceremonies could not be done within the ten day deadline the priests and priestesses of _Nienna_ and _Estë_ were called upon to pray for the protection and direction of the unfortunate souls and this would be the case for Faervel.

For although his memorial service would be held the following day in keeping with tradition his body still remained missing and therefore unable to be cremated. It was a point that Thranduil could tell bothered Lady Ìdhes despite the brave face she put on and it added to his sorrow that the news this morning from the search parties hadn't been what they were all hoping for. Lady Ìdhes was Noldor but had lived among his people for long enough to pick up and observe their beliefs and the King only wished that he had been able to offer her better news on the whereabouts of her son's body.

"T…Tomorrow," Lady Ìdhes took a deep breath and gathered herself. "Tomorrow will be fine _Aran-nin._ I am happy with all the arrangements thank you – you have been most kind to me."

Thranduil nodded solemnly and signed the papers before him in a flourish before he called for his secretary, "Bôr."

Bôr appeared in a flourish from a side door and bowed low. " _Aran-nin_?"

"Please take these and have all the instructions within carried out immediately. Also please let it be known throughout the realm via our fastest pages and carrier hawks that Lord Faervel's memorial will be held tomorrow at noon."

"Yes _Aran-nin_." Bôr bowed low again, took the sheaf of papers Thranduil held out to him and swept from the room.

Thranduil watched Bôr's rapidly retreating back for a moment before he turned his gaze upon Lady Ìdhes once more. "I know tomorrow's events will be very difficult for you _Hiril-nin,_ if there is anything I can do to aid you or make it any better at all name it and if it is within my power it shall be done."

Lady Ìdhes took a deep inhalation of breath and appeared to be gathering herself for what she was about to say and Thranduil felt dread heavy and thick settle low in his stomach. He had a very uneasy feeling about what Lady Ìdhes was about to say.

Thranduil was not disappointed.

"Well," Lady Ìdhes took another deep breath and clasped her hands tightly in front of her, "I have but one more final thing to ask of you _Aran-nin._ " Lady Ìdhes gave her King a weak, trembling smile, "I would ask for an escort to Mithlond. I intend to sail."

**~o~**

Thranduil strode down the hallway, Aglardaer hot on his heels, with Lady Ìdhes last request ringing fresh in his mind.

Sail. Lady Ìdhes intended to sail and in all honesty Thranduil was not very surprised by the decision – he had seen it coming. And yet it bothered him.

Abruptly the King found himself shoved out of his brooding thoughts and into a side room.

Thranduil whirled to face his Crown Commander and best friend, "Aglardaer? What are you doing? We are due to meet the council for the deliberations on the case of the _edain_ ; what is the meaning of this?"

Aglardaer waved his hand carelessly, "They will wait Thranduil. You are the King after all – no one is about to scold you for being a few minutes late."

"Hardly the point Aglardaer, just because I have such benefits does not mean I ought to abuse them. Besides a King ought to be punctual – have your never listened to any of Arahaelon's speeches?" Thranduil arched a golden eyebrow.

Aglardaer ignored his friend's evasive comment and gently guided him to sit at a desk in a corner of the unoccupied office room. "How do you feel?"

Thranduil allowed his Crown Commander to manoeuvre him into the seat before he frowned up at him. "What do you mean how do I feel? I feel late for our next meeting." Thranduil scowled all the harder.

"Stop being so obtuse Thranduil, I know you well and you cannot hide from me. Lady Ìdhes' news has unsettled you and I'll tell you now – stop blaming yourself – Lady Ìdhes' sailing is not your fault. Do you hear me?"

Thranduil turned so that he faced away from his childhood friend – Aglardaer knew him well indeed. Every time Thranduil got this type of news – news of one of his _eledhrim's_ intended sailing - he could not help but question himself. He always felt somehow to blame for the fact that one of his subjects felt so despondent and miserable in their Woodland home that they decided to take to the seas. Thranduil knew it was ridiculous but he always took such news as a personal blow and would spend days, sometimes weeks examining how he could have perhaps prevented said elf's departure.

This case was no different and in fact it felt even more personal. Had he stuck with his original decision to turn down Faervel for the position of Legolas' bodyguard – would Faervel still be here? Perhaps. Then Lady Ìdhes would have no cause to sail. Or perhaps if he had been more vigilant in watching over the area of his realm where the Woodsmen lived those evil _edain_ would never have snuck in to cause all this in the first place.

Maybes, perhaps, could haves, should haves. They all swirled round Thranduil's mind along with Lady Ìdhes final request and the King sighed and rubbed a jewelled hand across his tired face.

Aglardaer huffed a little and steep closer to Thranduil and rested a hand on his shoulder, "Stop it. There is nothing you could have done to prevent this outcome – it was all completely out of your control. So just stop. Stop tormenting yourself with all these useless what ifs Thranduil."

"But if I -"

Aglardaer cut him off, "Nay Thranduil – I said no what ifs. That way lies madness. No matter how much you may wish it as King you just cannot keep every single one of your _eledhrim_ happy and safe from harm. It is just the way of life on Arda. Sooner or later there will be those who want to sail for whatever reason – you cannot hold yourself accountable for every one of them."

Aglardaer left his friend's side and routed round in a nearby convenient drinks cupboard and smiled at what he found there.

"Here – don't tell Galion or Arahaelon. Drink up." Aglardaer placed a crystal tumbler of watered down gin in front of Thranduil.

The elf King gave a small wry smile; Aglardaer knew him far, far too well. Thranduil took a sip of his weakened drink and willed it to soothe his frayed nerves.

Aglardaer pushed aside his guilt at fuelling Thranduil's drink habit and decided now was the time to broach his next trickier point. "Blame yourself no more over the good Lady's intention to sail. But consider this - will you take Lady Ìdhes up on her offer? _That_ is what you ought to be pondering."

Thranduil looked up from his drink but could not find it in him to glare at Aglardaer's underhanded tactics. "I…I…," Thranduil took a deep breath and did his best to reign in his emotions. "I do not think I will take Lady Ìdhes up on her offer."

Aglardaer frowned, "Why ever not?"

"I don't know if Celeblassel will have yet been released and -"

Aglardaer snorted in a most un-Lordly way and interrupted Thranduil again, "It has been nearly a full millennia Thranduil. Surely you do not think Celeblassel was so sinful in her life here on Arda that _Mandos_ has not yet released her? Do it. I am more than sure that your lady wife has long been released from the Halls and will be thrilled to hear from you."

Thranduil turned away from his friend again and let his weary head fall into his arms that rested upon the table. It was not only Lady Ìdhes' wish to sail that bothered the King but also her rather kind if unlooked for offer to ferry a message across the Sundering Seas to his dearly beloved wife that had Thranduil in a quandary.

Thranduil sighed, "Be that as it may I still do not think I will write to Celeblassel."

"I really don't see your issue Thranduil; why not jump at this chance to have someone trustworthy and a friend of Celeblassel's at that deliver a missive to your wife? After all it's been so long – she must be bursting at the seams with curiosity as to how you all have fared. Will you really not appraise her on your lives to date?"

"That's just the problem!" Thranduil exclaimed and he knocked back the last of his gin before he gave another heavy sigh. "If Celeblassel were to receive a letter from me she will be expecting to hear all about how Rithel, Legolas and I are faring and she will be especially keen to hear about Legolas in particular. The last time she saw him he was a tiny elfling drenched in blood and running for his life; she will be anxious to hear how Legolas has turned out."

Aglardaer frowned at his friend unable to see Thranduil's point. "So? Why is that a bad thing? It is only natural that the Queen be curious about the _ellon_ her son has become."

Thranduil grit his teeth, "It is a bad thing Aglardaer as I currently have no idea where on Arda said son currently is!"

Thranduil was beginning to lose his temper – why had Aglardaer insisted they speak of this now? They were now late to meet with the council and this talk wasn't making him feel any better; it was just adding to the aggravation of his already trying day which had barely even begun as yet.

Thranduil stood up and paced the room in agitation, "What do you really expect me to write Aglardaer? I mean really? To my dearest beloved wife, I hope this letter finds you hale and whole in Aman. Do try not to be alarmed if you should see our son appear on that side of the Seas in the near future for Legolas is currently only the _Valar_ know where and lingering at _Mandos'_ door. Rithel is an anxious, mood swinging wreck and I your dear husband have an unhealthy and increasingly worse problem with alcohol. All my love until we meet again Thranduil? I mean is that what you want me to write? Because anything else would be a lie."

"Come now Thranduil – things are not so dire. You are -"

Thranduil cut him off, "Things _are_ that dire Aglardaer. Open your eyes and see not the perfect Royal family everyone else sees but the truth. I have nothing but bad news to share and I do not want Celeblassel to be over in Aman stressed and anxious about us where instead she should be happy, light and free. Telling her about Legolas – it would just break her heart and I am sure she would be furious with me and I cannot bear the thought of either of those two things."

Aglardaer strolled over to his friend and placed a firm hand on Thranduil's shoulder and stopped the King's near frantic pacing. "Celeblassel will not blame you for anything that happens with Legolas, Rithel is not a wreck – just understandably upset right now and as for your drinking well…"

Thranduil gave a dry smirk, "Well what? Please Aglardaer, you and I both know I drink far too much – the very fact you handed me a tumbler of gin to calm me proves my point."

"But…but I…," Aglardaer floundered, "The gin was watered down, I didn't…I…"

"Don't bother denying it Aglardaer," Thranduil waved aside the excuses with a regal flourish of his hand. "The point is I would rather not write to my long departed wife with such ill news as I currently have and therefore I will politely decline Lady Ìdhes generous offer. Please let us speak of it no more. I know you mean me well but I have made up my mind."

"As you wish it Thranduil – I did not make this suggestion lightly nor to upset you, know that much at least. I just thought – still think – it would be good for you to reach out to your wife. You would get no reply that is true but I still think just the act of writing to her would be cathartic, healing and even fun when appraising her of how your children have grown."

Thranduil shook his friend's arm off and slumped against the desk, "I asked you not to speak of it anymore Aglardaer. Why do you not understand? If you truly must know I do not wish to write to Celeblassel as I do not wish to inform her just yet of my abject failings as a father. I mean I have _lost_ my _son_ for _Eru's_ sake!"

"It is _not_ your fault that Legolas was kidnapped. _You_ did not lose him and Celeblassel would never blame you for that. And you are not a failed father Thranduil – you may be many things but _never_ that. Failed fathers do not soothe fears, bandage bloodied knees, sing, play wrestle, offer help with Quenya, swordsmanship and arithmetic. Failed fathers do not make sure they take breakfast and dinner with their children whenever they are in residence despite a frantic schedule. You are not a failed father."

Aglardaer sighed. It really hadn't been his intention to rile Thranduil nor upset him but it seemed he had done just that.

"Never mind me Thranduil – I spoke out of turn is all. I will not mention Lady Ìdhes' offer again." Aglardaer walked to the other end of the room and gestured at the door and gave a small bow. "After you _Aran-nin_."

Thranduil gave a small frustrated growl at the formality but said nothing as he stalked out the door. He was stressed and he was tired, his heart ached for his son, for the fact that yet another of his _eledhrim_ were to take ship and now it ached at the thought of his wife. He did not care what Aglardaer said, Thranduil was sure his beautiful wife would be horrified at how he had parented their children - particularly Legolas.

And with those sour thoughts running rampant through his mind Thranduil made for the council meeting room.

**~o~**

Slowly, ever so slowly Legolas could feel himself leaving the dreamless peace of sleep as he drew nearer to wakefulness. Memories unfurled themselves bit by bit, becoming clearer as they went on. The ambush and attack, being held hostage by those hateful _edain,_ being forced to flee into the Mountains, the miracle of Faervel finding him then the horror and sadness of his best friend's untimely death, the aid of the _Elrondionnath_ followed by his slide into and dramatic rescue from the realm of Darkness. It was all enough to make Legolas feel exhausted and he instantly wished for sleep again. Still, despite his best efforts the Prince found himself helpless to repel awareness' pull and fall back asleep. With a small resigned huff of breath Legolas gave in and decided to take stock of his body.

He wished he hadn't – he was instantly assaulted with pain from several points across his body. His head throbbed and there was a patch at the back of his head that stung fiercely. That was nothing however compared to the hot burning pain that tore through his shoulder and stole his very breath. It was enough to make him groan softly and it was so vicious that Legolas almost overlooked the way the palms of his hands stung with the pain of many small, shallow cuts, the deep ache in his right thigh and the dull throb a bit lower down in his right ankle.

Almost but not quite and he gave another soft, pained groan against his will as his body was wracked with pain. He sorely regretted giving in to wakefulness but knew there was no way he would now be able to fall back asleep no matter how hard he tried – not with the way his entire body ached. Legolas was loathe to admit it and it was a sign of just how badly he hurt but he needed painkillers and to get those he would need to open his eyes, awaken fully and catch the attention of a healer. Preferably Elrohir. He hoped the dark haired twin was either with him in the room or very nearby; there was something about the younger twin that set Legolas at ease.

Legolas slowly prised his eyes open before he shut them tight against the brightness of the room almost immediately and gave a disgusted moan as the light increased the ferocity of his headache.

" _Ernil_? Prince Legolas? Are you awake?"

Legolas tensed before he relaxed at the voice. It was not Elrohir's but Lord Elrond's and Legolas allowed himself to relax and answer. Or at least he tried to, Legolas was pretty sure that the dry, garbled noise that had emanated from him did not count as actual speech. Not only that but his mouth protested at its use – his tongue and lips burned with sharp pain and the metallic tang of blood filled his mouth which caused the blonde to grimace in distaste before he tried again.

"Too…bright…," Legolas managed to rasp out.

"Oh sorry Legolas – I'll draw the curtains now. I was reading by the light of the window is all but I suppose it is quite bright."

Elrohir's chipper voice came from his right and caused Legolas to feel even more at ease. It was followed by a ruffle of cloth and through his closed eyelids Legolas saw the room grow dim.

"Come Princeling you can open your eyes now, the brightness shouldn't bother you too much." Lord Elrond's voice came from his left gentle and coaxing.

Legolas again prised his eyes open and though the room was considerably darker it still took him a minute or two of squinting and blinking before his eyes were finally able to adjust and open fully to see Lord Elrond and Elrohir both with clear looks of relief upon their faces.

Elrohir smiled, "I'm so pleased to see you awake and aware Legolas."

Lord Elrond gave him a matching smile as well, "Your waking now is most fortunate – tis time for me to administer your medicines and I need to check over your wounds and change your bandages and it will be far easier to do so whilst you are awake."

Legolas said nothing – his lips and tongue protested when he used them, the pounding in his head had become quite distracting and his throat was sore and dry. He didn't feel as though he could get another word out and so he simply gave the tiniest nod of his head instead.

Lord Elrond seemed to understand and he gestured to Elrohir, "Help him to sit up." Elrond turned to finish mixing something in a small metal cup before he drew close again. "Here Princeling this will help soothe your throat as well as the pain you are doubtlessly in."

Lord Elrond held the small metallic cup up close to Legolas who peered down at the greenish water inside and tried to hide his disgust.

Evidently he had not hidden his disgust as well as he thought as Lord Elrond chuckled, "You need not look so horrified _Ernil_. I know it does not look appealing but I promise you it will not taste as bad as it looks and more than that it will greatly help you. It is simply water, for you are very dehydrated, laced with painkilling herbs and honey to soothe your throat."

Elrond help up the cup toward Legolas again, "Drink."

Legolas took a deep breath and grimaced but he obeyed none the less and began to gulp greedily at the potion held up for him. _Valar_ , he hadn't realised just how thirsty he was, how badly his throat had been begging for the sweet relief of water.

Before Legolas had a chance to slurp down the entire drink however Lord Elrond drew the cup away from his lips. "Slowly _Ernil-nin_ you must drink slowly. I know you are thirsty but you haven't eaten for a while am I correct?"

Legolas gave a small affirmative nod.

"Right, therefore you must drink slowly least your stomach rebels. I need you to keep these painkillers down." Elrond brought the cup up for Legolas to drink again, "So please just slow sips for now – give your stomach time to adjust."

Legolas nodded again and did as told though his parched throat screamed at him to snatch the cup away from the older _ellon_ and gulp the drink down.

After a couple more agonisingly slow sips the cup was empty and Lord Elrond turned away with it whilst Elrohir helped Legolas ease back into a nest of pillows that kept him propped up. Legolas sank into them gratefully and mused rather unhappily about the truly awful shape he was in. He'd only been held in a sitting up position for a minute or two yet he felt as though he'd just run a mile. He was panting and felt genuinely weak. Legolas grit his teeth – how he hated feeling or looking weak.

Legolas' fretting was interrupted as Lord Elrond spoke up, "How do you feel _Ernil_? Is your stomach ok?" Lord Elrond cast a concerned look at Legolas over his shoulder, "You do not feel as though you are going to be sick do you?"

Legolas swallowed and was pleased to note his throat felt a lot less dry and sore, "Nay _Hir-nin_ Elrond, I feel ok – not nauseous at all."

"Good – I have another two medicines I need you to take but it would be pointless to give them to you if you could not keep them down."

"I think I will manage _Hir-nin_ ," Legolas' voice was weak and raspy and the Prince could not help but cringe internally at how he sounded.

"Brilliant," Lord Elrond swivelled round from where he worked on said medicines to give Legolas a smile. "They will help fight the infections in your body and hopefully finally break your fever. I must admit I am concerned as to how long it has had hold of you. I intend to at least bring it down by the end of today."

" _Hannon-le Hir-nin_."

Lord Elrond nodded before he turned back to his task of medicine preparation, "The medicines are not yet ready but in the meantime could you enlighten us as to what befell you? I am sorry to pry but it will help Elrohir and I spot any further injury or trauma we may have missed the first time when we look you over again. If we know more of your circumstances we will be able to better spot any resultant injuries."

Legolas froze and stared unseeingly at Lord Elrond's back. He wanted Legolas to tell him what had happened? Legolas' hands clenched in his bed sheets and he unconsciously held them in a death grip as tension filled his body. Surely Lord Elrond did not really mean for him to go through it all? Rehash everything that had happened since that faithful morning?

Legolas could feel his heart as it picked up pace to thrum a loud, panicky staccato beat against his chest whilst memories he so desperately wanted to forget flooded his mind. The horror upon his warriors faces, cruel grasping hands, evil, malicious grey eyes, the searing pain caused by orc-ish crossbow bolt, the heart shattering loss caused by the death of loved one. Legolas shivered.

He did not want to think of it never mind speak of it. And how could he speak of it to a stranger? As kind as Lord Elrond was Legolas did not really know him and he felt his stomach lurch threateningly at the thought of having to share his private shame and personal hell with anyone. He hadn't even been able to bring himself to tell Faervel – one of his dearest, closest friends – how on Arda was he meant to tell Lord Elrond?

Legolas' stomach flip-flopped in a very nauseating way and he transferred his death grip from his sheets to his stomach as he pressed hard against it in a futile effort to get its traitorous lurching to cease.

At Legolas' continued silence Lord Elrond looked round, "Are you ok _Ernil_? Does the medicine not sit right with you after all? Are you going to be sick? Elrohir quick grab that small chamber pot."

Elrohir scrambled to comply whilst Legolas remained as still and as silent as a statue. Elrohir brought the small chamber pot and placed it to the side of Legolas' bed as his _Adar_ directed but he did not think that that was what truly ailed Legolas. Elrohir remembered how wary and cornered the Prince had seemed when he had asked Legolas a similar question when they had first met in the mountains. It seemed the blonde Prince was not yet ready to tell his tale.

It was then that Elrohir lay a gentle hand on Legolas' good shoulder and drew the Prince out of his increasingly panicked, spiralling thoughts with a kind smile.

"You needn't describe all you've been through right now – why don't you tell us of all the injuries you are aware of and anywhere it hurts instead? We'll be able to treat you well enough with that information. You can tell us your tale later when you feel more able to do so."

Elrohir smiled at Legolas and arched an eyebrow at his _Adar_ begging him to comply. Elrond nodded and smiled in understanding at his son; leave it to Elrohir and his uniquely kind, genteel bedside manner to get to the true heart of the problem. It seemed whatever the young Prince had gone through was still too raw and painful for him to speak of and Elrond knew if that were the case then nothing would be gained from forcing Legolas to reveal all and relive the trauma now. He would speak when he was ready and stronger and in the meantime Elrohir had provided the perfect solution.

Elrond turned back to the grinding and careful measurement of the herbs before him with a proud grin – he would let Elrohir handle things for now. His son was clearly more than capable and perhaps Legolas would be more open and frank about his injuries with Elrohir with whom he was more familiar.

"J…just my injuries?" Legolas questioned hesitantly. He supposed he could do that – as long as he did not have to go into any great detail as to how he sustained said injuries Legolas felt sure he could do as Elrohir asked.

"Yes _mellon-nin_ just your injuries, let us start with your head and work our way down. How about that?"

Legolas let the tension drain from his body and stopped clutching at his stomach as it finally ceased its nauseating lurching. He let himself settle more fully into the pillows that kept him upright and his hands began to idly play with his sheets.

Legolas licked his lips noting that the taste of blood had been replaced with that of honey, "I can do that."

"Good," Elrohir beamed, "So, your head - does it hurt?"

Legolas gave a tiny nod, "Yes. It feels as though an army of tiny dwarves are mining within my skull."

Elrohir frowned and placed a hand on Legolas' brow, "How painful would you say your headache is?"

"I won't lie my head is pounding, the pain is quite intense and there is patch I can feel at the back of my head that stings rather badly."

Elrohir pushed a small amount of healing energy into Legolas (like his _Adar_ he was not yet fully recovered). "That stinging sensation would be the cut at the back of your head. I'm afraid that you trashed around quite a bit when you were pulled back from the realm of Darkness and your stitches were torn. They will have to be re-done once the pain killers you have taken take full effect. Your headache should also disappear once that happens – and worry not those pain killers are quite fast acting."

Legolas nodded dully as Elrohir's hand imparted sweet pain relief to his throbbing head in the meantime.

"What of your mouth Legolas? I know that you bit your tongue rather badly whilst you trashed around. There is not much we can do for it save to let it heal on its own but still, could you open your mouth and let me have a look at it now? Even if we cannot place stitches we must not allow your tongue to become infected."

Legolas slowly opened his mouth as wide as he could get it without it hurting too much – his cut lips still felt bruised and there was now the added deep ache in his tongue to contend with. Elrohir removed his hand from Legolas forehead and clucked his tongue in annoyed surprise as he closely inspected Legolas' mouth.

"Your lips have been cut to shreds on the inside and you are missing a tooth!"

Elrohir was shocked at the state of the Prince's mouth. _Valar_ surely it was nothing Legolas had eaten. Elrohir took another look at the cuts that covered the inside of both of Legolas' lips and a frown made its way onto his face. Elrohir was a skilled healer and he knew the signs of torture when he saw them.

At his son's astonished cry Elrond had turned from his work ready to make his way over but Elrohir gave him a small shake of his head. It would be better if he continued to handle the Prince for now. Elrohir glanced at Legolas but the Prince stubbornly refused to meet his eyes and his face was flushed a bright red. It was then Elrohir realised that Legolas knew Elrohir had figured out his secret. In that case it would definitely be better if Elrohir was the only one dealing with the Prince just then.

Elrohir tapped Legolas' chin gently allowing the blonde to close his sore mouth, "It will be difficult to apply salve to the insides of your lips but there is a medicinal leaf I'd like you to chew on once we've finished discussing your injuries. It will help against any potential infection and as for your tooth – well… it'll grow back – give it a week or so."

Legolas only gave small nod as he still refused to meet Elrohir's probing gaze.

Elrohir knew. Legolas was sure of it. The _môr-adan_ that had tortured him by cutting his lips had done so in a very methodical manner – there would be no way a healer as skilled as Elrohir would mistake the cuts to be anything other than the marks of torture they were. The thought made Legolas want to curl in on himself and weep. He hated the fact he had been so weak as to be captured and tortured and he was mortified now that someone else knew of his secret shame. What must Elrohir think of him? Legolas bowed his head and blinked rapidly and futilely against his tears. He had brought shame to the name of his House and now Elrohir knew it. Doubtless by the end of the night Lord Elrond and Elladan would know it too. The thought sent the barely held back tears streaming down Legolas' face as he burned with shame and guilt. He was weak, a disgrace unable to protect those who served under him and now those facts would soon be public knowledge.

Legolas was so wrapped up in his misery that he flinched when Elrohir laid a strong but gentle hand on his good shoulder and gave a squeeze. "Tis ok _mellon-nin_ , you have nothing to fear from us nor is there any reason to be ashamed or embarrassed by anything that was done to you. For in the end you have survived – you were strong enough to escape and you have survived. It is over, it's ok – you are free now."

The kind, non-judgmental, caring words were enough to give Legolas a strange surge of strength. Legolas blinked and carefully wiped at his eyes before he straightened his head once more and dared to look at Elrohir. Lord Elrond was there too, in the end unable to stay away when his patient was so obviously hurting. Legolas was simply relieved to see that both _ellyn_ simply held compassion and the urge to help within their eyes. There was no scorn nor was there ridicule or pity and Legolas had never felt so thankful in all his life.

The Prince gave both Peredhil a watery smile, "Th-thank you both. I…I do not wish to speak of it…cannot speak of it….not now…not yet but…you are correct in thinking was captured…a-and tortured." Legolas cast his eyes back down the now familiar sting of shame burning through him once more. _Valar_ it had been hard to say those words.

"Ah, ah ah, Princeling eyes up. As Elrohir has said – you have overcome and proved yourself the stronger by the mere fact that you managed to get away and escape. Now I will not have you looking like that – keep your head and eyes up. Remember – you are Royalty – you should not bow your head so easily."

Legolas looked up again and gave a small nod though Elrond could see it carried no conviction. Elrond supressed a sigh and beamed at the Prince instead. He could tell already Legolas would need a lot of help to get over his ordeal – his pride and self-confidence had clearly been shattered along with his body. It would be a long and difficult recovery ahead and one Elrond was keen to get started on.

"Right _Ernil-nin_ , I have the other two medicines ready for you now. Once you've taken them we can begin."

"B-begin what?" Legolas looked wary.

"We will begin in getting you fully on the road to recovery. We'll start with your head and treat the ailments you described and work our way down. We can give you a sponge bath as we go and once all the bandaging and stitching is over we will get you into fresh clean clothes and you can take some more rest." Elrond offered up a huge spoonful of his first medicine, "How does that sound?"

Legolas accepted the bitter spoonful with a small grimace then, "Can I have a bath instead? I will be able to wash my hair," Legolas wrinkled his nose in disgust. "It reeks of _orch_ and besides I can manage a bath on my own you need not worry. I don't need you to give me a sponge bath, I can take care of myself."

Elrond frowned at how Legolas seemed desperate to avoid the intimacies of a sponge bath. Granted it was rather personal but they were all _ellyn_ , Legolas had no reason to be shy.

Elrond held back another sigh even as he exchanged a _look_ with Elrohir over Legolas' head. Avoidance of personal touch – it was another clear sign that the blonde before them had been tortured and just then a rather worrying thought made its way into Elrond's mind and he pondered how to delicately phrase his question to the Prince without distressing him further.

Elrond knew of course that Legolas hadn't been raped – he would have long surrendered his soul had that been the case. Still there were other invasive sexual things one could be forced into that would certainly lend to one not wanting to be touched at all or any more than necessary and certainly not intimately.

Elrond took a fortifying breath, "I do not mean to distress you further Princeling but I must make sure…,"Elrond hesitated a moment and wondered if his decision to be direct was the correct one. "Were you forced into anything? Made to perform any acts of a sexual or intimate nature."

Legolas' eyes widened and for a moment Elrond feared the worst but then Legolas began to splutter and blush madly.

"N-nay _Hir-nin_ tis nothing…nothing like that – no! I just….I just would really rather have a bath on my own. I'm sorry, I know we are all _ellyn_ but I have never really liked being…um…exposed." Legolas blushed all the more, "I'm just a very private _ellon_ and I have never really enjoyed being touched and fussed over _._ I have never had a butler or any personal aides – I can't abide the thought of another helping to dress or wash me –sorry I have just never liked that sort of a thing…even less so now."

Legolas shivered – he'd had quite enough of being manhandled and touched by others.

Elrond for his part relaxed as he realised that nothing so sinister had befallen the Prince but that Legolas really was just shy and only suffering from the far milder effects of having been brutally handled by his captors; effects that would be far easier to dispel than had he been sexually assaulted.

Feeling much relived the Peredhil Lord nodded at the Prince, "I understand but I'm afraid a bath is still out of the question. Many of your wounds are still raw and open – we cannot risk water getting into them and infecting them. Your shoulder wound and the one in your thigh are already badly infected as is; it would be pure folly to have them submerged in water at the moment." Elrond gave Legolas a small understanding smile, "I'm sorry Princeling but you shall just have to grin and bear it for now."

"Do not worry Legolas, we shall work quickly and it will all be over before you know it," Elrohir did his best to reassure the blonde. "And you needn't worry about being overly exposed – we shan't have you siting here as naked as the day you were born whilst we work," the twin gave Legolas a cheeky grin. "We shall only undress you as needed and then cover you up again before we move onto the next area that needs our attention."

Elrond nodded, "Yes and the door shall remain locked and only Elrohir and myself will tend to you. I promise we will do our best to maintain your privacy."

Legolas nodded slowly. Truly he wasn't all that worried about his privacy although he was a really a private _ellon_. Nay it was the thought of once again being handled by others and touched when he did not want to be that bothered him. Oh sure, he knew Lord Elrond and Elrohir would be far gentler than his captors had been but Legolas still couldn't quite shake his trepidation.

Still, he felt grimy and the stench of _orch_ and his _edain_ captors was all over him. There was even a whiff of goblin. Legolas shivered again – he did need a bath and lieu of the real thing he supposed the sponge bath would have to do. Maybe, he mused, the awful memories would fade along with the awful smells.

"Ok…fine…let's do it and get it all over with."

Elrohir nodded and walked over to the far corner of the room where a massive cauldron of water was simmering away nicely to begin to prepare the water needed. Lord Elrond also nodded before he held out a small thimble sized cup to Legolas. It was filled with a thick viscous, dark purple liquid.

Legolas arched a brow as he stared at the cup dubiously, " _What_ is that?"

"The last of the medicines I need you to take and tis nothing awful tasting I promise. In fact it tastes quite nice – sweet."

Lord Elrond held the cup even closer to Legolas' lips and the Prince couldn't help but press himself a little further back into the pillows behind him.

"It does not look nice or as though it will taste anything but awful." Legolas had never been an easy, compliant patient.

"I would not lie to you Princeling. Now drink up – you'll be pleasantly surprised."

Were it Calelon, the royal healer back home, Legolas would have continued to protest and fuss. However it was _not_ Calelon but Lord Elrond and Legolas didn't want to push his luck too far. With a grimace and closed eyes he allowed Lord Elrond to bring the small cup to his lips and he quickly swallowed the thick syrupy liquid inside before he looked up eyes open wide in surprise.

"It…that was…it was quite nice," Legolas sounded suspicious.

"I told you it was. The main ingredient is blueberry, so despite its look and colour it is one of my nicest tasting medicines. It will help with your infections. Now we can begin."

Legolas tensed as Lord Elrond put aside the cup and instead brought closer a tray full of medical tools – needles, surgical twine, gauze and the like – whilst Elrohir brought a tub full of fragrant smelling water on his other side and rested it on the bedside table. Legolas forced himself to breathe, to loosen his death grip on the sheets and to remember that these were friends.

They are friends and they want to help, they will be gentle with me, they are friends and they will not hurt me. I must not lash out, they are friends and they will not hurt me.

Legolas forced himself to repeat the mantra, over and over again as both Peredhil put on clean healer's gowns and washed their hands. It didn't really help though – Legolas found himself feeling more and more tense, more and more panicked; as though he couldn't breathe – he needed to get out. Now.

Elrohir noticed the rising tension in the Prince and walked over and lounged against Legolas' bed before he leaned down to mock whisper, "You should be happy Legolas that _Adar_ gives you his nicer tasting medicines. He is never that nice with either Ladan or myself when _we_ get infections – oh no. He gives us the _other_ medicine – one that looks like honey but tastes like _Morgoth's_ balls."

Elrond turned round ready to give Elrohir a sharp reprimand when he heard Legolas unsuccessfully try to smother a snigger. Elrond rolled his eyes and turned back to finish his prep. If Elrohir's unique brand of humour would help keep Legolas from being so tense and preoccupied with worry then he would allow it for now.

"Hmm, yes I know the type – Calelon often force feeds them to me. You needn't be jealous Elrohir I assure you I get more than my fair share of awful medicines back home."

Elrohir laughed, "Get into these sorts of scrapes often do you?"

Legolas gave a soft snort, "Hmph you have no room to speak Elrondion – I reckon that you are a healing ward regular."

"Nay that would be Elladan – he is far more accident prone than me."

Elrond simply snorted at that blatant lie but said nothing – Elrohir's banter had Legolas completely pre-occupied and taking his chance Elrond gently manoeuvred Legolas so that he was nearly fully upright and begun to gently clean the re-opened wound on the back of the Prince's blonde head.

Legolas flinched and tensed at Elrond's first touch but Elrohir continued his happy chatter attempting to continue to distract the Prince and help him relax.

"I know everyone one expects me as the younger to be more fool hardy and to get injured a lot more but tis not so." Elrohir waggled his eyebrows at Legolas and smirked.

Legolas gave a small hiss as Lord Elrond began the first of his stitches but decided instead to focus on Elrohir's happy face rather than his discomfort. "I find that quite hard to believe somehow Elrohir; your brother he seems so…so…proper."

Elrohir laughed at that – he knew how stiff and cold Elladan could come across and it seemed he had left that impression upon Legolas. It amused Elrohir how polite the Prince was being about it.

"Nay I assure you that even elder brother dearest has spent a godly amount of time in these very wards."

Just then Legolas looked up at Elrohir curiously, "Where _is_ Elladan by the way?"

"Oh he has been kept rather busy since we arrived. He was tasked with sending word of your whereabouts to your _Adar_ ," Elrohir scratched his chin contemplatively. "I expect the carrier pigeon will arrive at the Palace by late evening today."

Legolas' face lit up in a mixture of relief and apprehension, "Really? You think it shall get there that soon?" Legolas began to nervously clutch at his bedsheets again.

Elrohir not wanting the Prince to get caught up in his thoughts again gave a wicked smirk, "Yes it will arrive sometime this eve but how much time it will take your _Adar_ to translate that unreadable scrawl Elladan calls Tengwar is another matter altogether."

Legolas couldn't help himself and he laughed and continued to snigger as Elrohir continued to poke fun at his brother whilst still bantering with Legolas.

Elrond smiled secretly and proudly at his son's antics as he once again mentally praised the way Elrohir was able to read his patients and react appropriately to put them at ease. He had long since finished tending to Legolas's head wound and with the aid of Elrohir had washed away as much of the grime and blood as possible from Legolas' golden hair with nary more than an initial flinch from the Prince. Elrond felt rather thankful toward his son; he had now begun work on Legolas' sensitive, inflamed shoulder, stripping him to the waist for better access and the Prince still showed no signs of distress but kept his focus on Elrohir.

Legolas laughed aloud again at another of Elrohir's silly anecdotes ignoring the way his throat had begun to protest at being overused by starting to become scratchy and sore once more. He gave Elrohir his full attention; he knew the twin was simply trying to distract him from what both Peredhil were doing to him but Legolas was grateful. Elrohir's banter forced his mind away from fixating on the way fingers and gentle touches brushed over his exposed skin, kept him from wanting to hit out and force the touches to cease. It kept his mind from wandering and making _bad_ associations.

Nay laughing at Elrohir was good – it would help him get through this. Lord Elrond was already easing him into a new shirt. It would all be over soon enough.

Legolas continued to laugh. He could handle it - it would all be over soon enough.

**~o~**

Legolas closed his eyes and bit his lip as he tried his best to ignore the sickening lurch his stomach made as he was lifted and eased back into his clean, freshly made up bed. The Prince let himself sink back into the pillows – which held him up too high for his current liking – in relief and exhaustion. It was finally over.

Tired, glassy blue eyes peered through the tiny gap in the curtains and Legolas glimpsed the last rays of the setting sun burning a fiery orange against a deep blue sky. He closed his eyes wearily – the whole process of having his broken stitches repaired and his wounds cleaned and re-bandaged as well as getting clean himself had taken far longer than he had hoped. The work on his shoulder had taken the greatest amount of time and attention followed closely by his ankle. Legolas sighed as he absentmindedly rubbed his tumultuous stomach; he knew Lord Elrond was worried about both wounds. His shoulder was badly infected and the muscle badly torn and his ankle had suffered a similarly grim fate with torn ligaments. Lord Elrond had said the recovery from both would take some time and had confined Legolas to strict bed rest and in all honesty the blonde simply didn't care.

He had never been one for staying put and lying quietly in bed like a good patient should but just then Legolas seriously doubted he had the strength to do anything else. The entire process had him near faint with exhaustion and he was slowly but surely losing his battle against sleep.

The Prince gave himself a little shake then and forced his eyes to open and focus as he heard Lord Elrond speak to him.

"…but I'd really like to get some nourishment into you sooner rather than later. When was your last meal?"

Legolas blinked his bleary eyes and stared at Lord Elrond hard as he tried to gather all his wits about him and focus. He really was rather tired.

"N-not sure," Legolas' voice sounded raspy again – for all the good that Elrohir's tales had done him the laughter had worn on his throat.

"Sounds like you need another small dose of the honeyed water Legolas – your voice is going again, and you're due some more painkillers too. Elrohir would you?"

The Peredhil Lord smiled as his son jumped to obey before he turned back to Legolas with a slight look of worry, "Now Princeling what do you mean you are not sure when you last ate? Has it truly been that long ago?" Elrond had gone from looking mildly worried to appalled.

Legolas swallowed painfully as he prepared to speak again, "I can remember my last meal, I am just not sure how long ago it was."

Legolas remembered his last meal of Hadril's hearty stew well enough – he just had no idea how long ago that had been. Due his continuous bouts of unconsciousness since he had been captured he'd long lost track of time.

Thinking back on the meal brought fresh worries to Legolas' mind over his troop. He wondered how they fared now. Were they well – already healed and whole or were they too languishing in the healing halls? He was unsure of how the battle had ended for them and hadn't had the chance to speak with Faervel of it so caught up had they been with other things. Guilt clawed at his heart - what sort of a Captain was he?

A light touch to his hand brought Legolas out of his miserable musings and the blonde looked up to see Elrohir holding a small glass of the honeyed, pain killer laced water. Legolas sipped at it slowly and gingerly – his nausea had made a rather unwelcome comeback.

After a long few minutes Legolas finished the drink and Lord Elrond gave him a calculating look, "Can you give me a rough estimate of when you think you last ate? I am a bit worried and would like to get some nourishment into you if you if I can."

Legolas blanched – the last thing he wanted was to eat anything least it all come up again in a rather undignified manner. The Prince rubbed his stomach, "I…I can't be sure – maybe seven, maybe ten days…I don't know I was unconscious quite a lot."

"Hmm," Elrond frowned at the Prince's words, "I shall have some hot broth sent up for you – do you think you could manage it? It would only be very little and very light."

"No," Legolas gave a small firm shake of his head. "No – I cannot. I feel sick enough as is. Please can I…can I just sleep _Hir-nin_. I feel quite faint." Indeed Legolas was blinking rapidly in a vain effort to keep himself awake and aware.

The Peredhil Lord simply gave a kind smile and a nod, "Of course Princeling – we can try and get you to eat a little something tomorrow instead. Sleep _penneth,_ sleep we will be here looking over you."

Legolas didn't need to be told twice and in no time at all his eyes were unfocussed before they slowly slid shut as the Prince gave into his exhaustion.

"He is so very weak _Adar_ ," Elrohir looked down worriedly at the sleeping blonde whilst he tucked the covers tighter round Legolas. "I too am worried over how long it has been since he last ate. He spent most of his time with Ladan and myself unconscious and it was all we could do to get some water down him never mind food."

Elrond pressed his hand to Legolas' brow relieved to note that at long last the fever had at least dropped if not broken altogether. "I'm worried about that too _ion-nin_ but we can do nothing for now. The Prince was battling against nausea for most of this afternoon and evening and it wouldn't have done him any good to give him food now. It is good that he is an elf; he will last a little while longer. Hopefully a good night's sleep will see him wake with some appetite tomorrow."

Elrond flapped a hand at his younger son, "I shall watch over the Prince tonight. Go find your brother- he must surely be bored from sitting in my place on the council all day. Take some rest and enjoy your evening. You did very well today Elro and I'm very proud of you."

" _Hannon-le Adar_ ," Elrohir flushed and smiled as he made for the door. " _Aduial vaer_."

" _Aduial vaer ion-nin_."

Elrond waved his son off and shut the door behind him with a soft click before he settled himself into a comfortable chair with an old well-worn tome on the known poisons of Middle Earth. The Peredhil intended to do some reading but instead found his mind pondering what horrors the Prince may have suffered whilst held captive. Gruesome image after gruesome image assaulted him and at last Elrond gave himself a shake – such thinking was very unhelpful.

The Peredhil Lord instead checked Legolas' fever again before gently pushing a stray blonde hair away from his face. "Sleep well _Ernil_ you are safe amongst friends now."

**~o~**

"Just kill them all."

All chatter in the room immediately ceased and all eyes turned to look at Thranduil before Arahaelon gave a great, loud aggrieved sounding sigh.

"We cannot just _kill_ them all _Aran-nin_ no matter how much we may wish to do so."

The silver haired Regent glared at his friend and King – really - Thranduil knew there were procedures and laws that had to be observed.

Arahaelon sighed, "We must observe proper procedure and follow all the relevant laws if we are to keep all our peace treaties intact. _Edain_ already think we are barbarians – there is no need to add fuel to _that_ fire."

Thranduil glared back even more fiercely, "Hang protocol and screw our treaties – we should never have made them in the first place."

Arahaelon made to interrupt but Thranduil held out a hand to stop him, "Nay I don't want to hear it Lord Arahaelon – I have had it up to here with all your bickering and debating over said bloody procedures."

Thranduil glowered round the table at all his advisors, "Take a look outside would you?! When we started these wretched discussions there was clear beautiful daylight – now it is only a matter of moments before nightfall will be upon us."

Thranduil jabbed an angry finger toward the huge bay windows where indeed the last rays of _Anor_ were giving way to the silky, black darkness of night. The King grit his teeth; he was really quite angry about the fact that this meeting to discuss the punishments of his prisoners had taken up the entire day. Yes, his councillors had agreed upon what crimes each man was to be tasked with and had found them all guilty but that was it – they had been going in circles discussing suitable punishments ever since and Thranduil had had more than enough.

"We have wasted the entire bloody day over these worthless _môr-edain_ and I will not stand for it moment longer – no more debating!" Thranduil slammed his open palm hard against the table and caused it to jump, "The time for action is now. We will sentence at least half the men before this meeting is brought to a halt or so help me _Eru_ I will -"

The King's angry rant was cut short by the unexpected slam of the council chambers heavy gilded doors being hurriedly opened. All eyes flew from their enraged Monarch to the one who had been misfortunate (and foolish) enough to interrupt Thranduil mid tirade.

The elven King himself glared down at the source of the disturbance – a kneeling, trembling page – and curled both his ringed hands into tight fists in a vain attempt at holding onto the last tenuous strands of his temper. _Valar_ he hated being interrupted.

"Arise and speak," Thranduil all but barked at the young _ellon_.

The page stood and though he trembled violently his voice held steady rather admirably in the face of Thranduil's pique. "My humblest of apologies for interrupting you in session _Aran-nin_ but this came marked as quite urgent. It bears the seal of Lord Elrond of Imladris." The page held out the scroll upon upturned palms and bowed his head.

Thranduil motioned for the page to bring him the scroll with a quick, irritated jerk of a hand and once it was handed to him he studied it angrily. It was Elrond's seal alright, along with the red _and_ gold markings that showed the scroll to be for the immediate attention of Thranduil himself. The eleven King glared as he broke the seal and tore into the scroll before letting unamused eyes run over the somewhat clunky Tengwar script.

Thranduil stopped, blinked and then began to read again – slowly – right from the very beginning. A difficult thing to do as Thranduil found his hands suddenly very shaky and unsteady. He managed however to read the letter through after a minute then the blonde King made a strange, strangled noise as though he wished to speak but could not causing Arahaelon (and indeed all the council) to pin him with a worried look.

"What? What is it _Aran-nin_? Does Lord Elrond's missive bring ill tidings?"

Thranduil stared at the letter again, quickly scanning it through, still not quite able to believe the words before his very eyes. Yet he had read them three times over now, surely, surely they were true? _Valar_ please, please let them be true, he prayed.

Thranduil weakly tossed the letter in the direction of his Regent, "Tell me Lord Arahaelon – tell me I have read that correctly. Please. Tell me my eyes do not deceive me."

Arahaelon snatched up and studied the letter for himself and noted that the bold, blocky Tengwar was not Elrond's usual neat and precise script. That fact soon fell from his mind however as he took in the missive's content.

A slow wondering smile spread across Arahaelon's face, "It is true Thranduil!" Formality fell by the wayside in Arahaelon's growing excitement, "Your eyes have not failed you. It is true – Legolas _and_ Faervel – they've been found. And more than that, Legolas...Legolas…he's alive. Praise all the _Valar_ \- Legolas is alive!"

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Naneth - Mother
> 
> Hröa – Body
> 
> Ellon/Ellyn – Male Elf/Elves
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Suilad – Greetings
> 
> Singyll – Page / Herald
> 
> Aran-nin - My King
> 
> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Manen le – How are you
> 
> Maethron – Warrior
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Hiril-nin - My Lady
> 
> Eledhrim – Elves
> 
> Elrondionnath – Sons of Elrond
> 
> Ernil – Prince
> 
> Mellon-nin - My friend
> 
> Môr-adan / Môr-edain – Dark (Evil) Man / Men
> 
> Orch – Sindarin for Orc
> 
> Hir-nin – My Lord
> 
> Penneth – Young One
> 
> Ion-nin – My Son
> 
> Aduial vaer – Good Evening
> 
> Anor – Sun
> 
> A/N: So I hope you all enjoyed – do drop me a line and let me know what you think :) Moving forward I have begun the next chapter already – so I'll do my best to get that out in fair time. For those reading Wrath and Ruin I'm so sorry for the lack of updates but I have had a severe lack of inspiration (and time). I will be taking a look at it again with a view to getting the next chapter out as soon as I can. Thank you all for bearing with me - KimicT


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: I can only apologise for disappearing for so long. Life has been tough recently. Still I** _**will** _ **finish this story regardless. I hope you enjoy and do read on – double post ahead as my way of saying sorry!**

The council chambers erupted into a cacophony of noise at Arahaelon's excitedly shouted statement as all the councillors and advisors began to speak at once; the Prince, their beloved Prince Legolas was alive and well.

Thranduil ignored them all and turned to the page who had brought the triumphant news. The elven King smiled by way of apology for his earlier abrupt manner, "You will forgive my earlier pique, I was rather stressed but you have brought good news indeed. I need you now to fetch several people to me, have them all meet me in my private chambers – bring them to my sitting room. I want Crown Commander Aglardaer, _Riel_ Rithel, Thanniel, all of my Elite, Lady Ìdhes and Bôr all brought to me. Get a few other pages to help you – I need to see them all as soon as is possible. Understood?"

"Yes _Aran-nin_ ," the young page bowed low before shooting off to do his assigned task. He was pleased to have been the bearer of such good news and was eager to keep the King in his suddenly high spirits.

Thranduil watched the page go then turned to face his council all of whom were still babbling excitedly among themselves, Arahaelon included. The elven King smiled to see such joy for the finding of his son – Legolas was truly loved by his people. Thranduil allowed them all a moment more before he slammed hard upon the table top with a nearby empty glass. He had the rapt attention of the room instantly and Thranduil clasped his hands together as he addressed them.

"You've all heard the very good news that Legolas has been found alive in Imladris and that Lord Faervel is there too in their Halls of Rest. I need to meet with Lady Ìdhes to give her the news and Crown Commander Aglardaer so we can call off the search and call back our troops." Thranduil paused and smiled at his council wickedly, "Therefore since I will be otherwise engaged I leave the delightful task of punishing our _edain_ prisoners in your capable hands. Once you have reached a decision send it to me and I will sign off on it _if_ I approve of your punishments."

One of Thranduil's advisors in _edain_ law stammered, "You…You're leaving this decision entirely to the council?"

Thranduil pinned the _ellon_ with a look, "Yes. You are all more than capable. I trust you will take into account the seriousness of the crimes these _edain_ have committed against the realm and against your Prince and deal out appropriate punishments to ensure justice is served." Thranduil turned to sweep from the room, Elrond's missive clutched in hand and paused at the door, "And do try not to take an entire age to come to your decision."

With that the elven King let the heavy doors slam shut behind him and strode down the corridor eyes reading through Elrond's missive once more. A frown pulled at the corners of Thranduil's mouth; though the missive confirmed that Legolas was alive it did say that he was in a dire way and a gentle test of the King's bond with his son confirmed that as fact.

An idea had come to Thranduil, back in the council chambers after he had first read Elrond's message through properly. It was rather short notice and would doubtless ruffle a few feathers but Thranduil cared not. He had very nearly worried himself to death over Legolas and the urge to be with his son now that Legolas had been found was overwhelming.

He was decided. He was going to Imladris.

He was going to be with his son.

**~o~**

Lord Arahaelon hurried out of the council chambers (that had erupted into a racket once more as the councillors began yet another debate about the prisoners) and bustled to catch up with his King. He glared at the blonde once he'd caught up to him, annoyed that he had been forced to rush through the halls in such an undignified manner.

"What are you planning?" He arched a silver eyebrow at Thranduil, his tone slightly sharper than intended.

"Not here," Thranduil gestured at the corridor they were in. "You'll find out soon enough."

Arahaelon grit his teeth at Thranduil's cryptic answer but said no more as he kept up with Thranduil's long, hurried stride toward his living quarters.

No sooner than they had entered the Royal quarters Thranduil gave a shout startling his Regent beside him. "Galion! Galion!"

"What on earth are you shouting for Galion like that for?" Arahaelon demanded testily, "You shall scare him half to death if you carry on like that."

"Oh nonsense, I just have need of him right now and if I call like this he will come in a matter of moments."

Arahaelon scoffed, "I do not doubt it – the poor _ellon_ probably thinks you've fallen and broken your neck."

Thranduil ignored his Regent in favour of giving another yell, "Galion!"

As predicted the butler came flying round a corner nearly tripping over his long robes in his haste. Eyes wide and alarmed Galion came to an abrupt stop before Thranduil, "You called _Aran-nin_? Are you well? What has happened? Is it Legolas?"

The flurry of questions were issued all whilst keen eyes scanned up and down the elven King's body for any sign of injury or anything at all that would have caused the King to yell like that. Finding nothing the alarmed butler locked his gaze on Thranduil's - a silent plea for the King to tell him what was wrong clearly visible in Galion's eyes.

Arahaelon glared at Thranduil, "I told you you'd scare him halfway to _Mandos_."

Thranduil shot his Regent an equally poisonous look before he turned apologetically toward Galion, "I am well Galion, I'm sorry I did not mean to scare you – I just had need of you right away."

"Well I am here now _Aran-nin,_ what is it you require?" Galion still looked somewhat panicked as though he expected something terrible to happen to Thranduil at any moment.

The King opened the door to his private quarters and gestured for both _ellyn_ to enter ahead of him. Once ensconced within the privacy of Thranduil's sitting room the King turned to Galion.

"I need you to organise a travelling pack for me Galion – I shall be leaving tomorrow - as soon as it is polite to do so after Faervel's funeral. I want to travel fairly light and I need to be inconspicuous so do not bother prepping my usual armour and travelling gear. Get me a regular soldier's uniform and the leather armour to go with it. I don't want to attract any undue attention."

"What?" Arahaelon stepped round Galion so he could see Thranduil fully. "What do you mean you are leaving tomorrow?"

"Exactly what I said – I am leaving tomorrow. I am going to Imladris."

Arahaelon gaped for a moment before, "You are the King; you cannot just up and leave whenever you feel like it Thranduil."

Thranduil gave an impatient growl, "It is precisely because I am the King that I can leave on a whim Arahaelon. I can do whatever I like. It's one of the few benefits of the job."

Galion tried to interject with a question as to Thranduil's sudden urge to head to Imladris but was cut off by an exasperated Arahaelon.

"That is true in theory but in reality Thranduil you cannot just up and leave like this – with no planning nor preparation nor even letting anyone know you will be leaving. What of the realm?"

"What of it? You are my Regent are you not – it is _your_ job to run things whilst I am away so I have nothing to worry about in terms of the running of the realm." Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Arahaelon, "And if you would just let me finish speaking to Galion and quit interrupting you would see that I _am_ planning and getting prepared. I have also asked for all the people who need to be informed of my decision to leave for Imladris to be brought here – you were there yourself when I gave instructions to the page. So really I fail to see your problem Arahaelon. All is taken care of."

Whilst Lord Arahaelon floundered Galion took the chance to finally ask his question, "Why Imladris _Aran-nin_? Why the sudden urge to go there?"

As far as Galion knew Thranduil and Lord Elrond were not on friendly terms and hadn't been for centuries – he saw no reason why his King would suddenly choose to go there. It had to be more than a passing flight of fancy – Thranduil was never so frivolous with his time and detested having to travel anywhere for anything. Thranduil always made others come to him – rarely did he ever bother to go to them. So what was so important now?

"Oh," Thranduil shook his head, "So sorry Galion – I haven't told you have I? Here have a look."

Thranduil thrust Elrond's missive at his butler and long-time confidante and watched with growing delight as Galion registered the wonderful news the message gave.

"Prince Legolas is alive? That…that is wonderful news!" Galion smiled widely at his King, "Wonderful news indeed. Thank you for sharing it with me – I can rest easier now knowing he is not only alive but with our own kind as well. How fortunate. What wonderful, wonderful news. No wonder you are so keen to go."

"Well yes – you did not think I was heading there to see Elrond did you?"

Galion snorted at that and continued to read before his broad smile dimmed somewhat, "I am also glad to hear Lord Faervel's _hröa_ has been found – I hope that will bring some small comfort to Lady Ìdhes."

Thranduil nodded solemnly, his joy at Legolas being found tempered by the grief of knowing yet another of his _maethyr_ was no more. "Yes, I haven't told her as yet for I have only just received this missive, but I too hope that knowing her son's _hröa_ currently rests with her kin in Imladris rather than being lost in the unknown wilds will bring comfort to Lady Ìdhes' heart as well."

Galion folded the letter up neatly and handed it to Thranduil, "I shall go now and pack your things _Aran-nin_ , all will be ready on time as you have requested it. Would you like me to pack some things for you to take for Legolas as well? I can't imagine he has much with him."

Thranduil beamed at his butler's ever present care, "That would be perfect, _hannon-le_ Galion."

Galion bowed and made his way into Thranduil's bedchamber to begin his task and Arahaelon looked over at his King, "So you're really doing this? Going to Imladris?"

"Yes, my mind is made up Arahaelon so do not try to convince me to do otherwise. I _need_ to see Legolas, I _need_ to be with my son. He has been through much, quite possibly including Faervel's death and is still very unwell from the sounds of things; it bothers me that he is alone in a foreign land after all he's been through. I just want to be there for him."

Arahaelon gave Thranduil a small smile even as he draped his shoulders around the blonde's in a one armed hug. "I understand. And you needn't worry, I stand ready to fulfil my duties as Regent. I am always here for you Thranduil no matter what it is you may need from me."

" _Le fael mellon-nin_ but you won't have much more to do in my absence than usual."

Arahaelon glanced over at Thranduil and caught the gleam in the elven King's eye. He dropped his arm from Thranduil's shoulders and folded it across his chest instead. "What else are you planning?"

"Why do you always think I'm up to no good?" Thranduil griped. "I'm actually going to do you a favour if you must know. I will be instating Rithel as my Regent – she could do with some real practice at running the realm. You need only be her chief advisor, her right hand _ellon_ as you are mine. So you see your suspicions are unfounded."

"Huh, only unfounded this time – I know you well enough to never let my guard down around you and your decision making Oropherion." Arahaelon smirked for a moment before he turned serious again, "Rithel will not take that news well – once she knows Legolas is alive she will want to head off with you to see him as well."

"I shan't be suggesting to Rithel that she be my Regent in my absence Arahaelon. It shall be a command and she shall obey. It would be folly of the highest order to have the entire Royal family so far away from the realm at one time."

"I know that but I still think -" Arahaelon was interrupted by a rather loud and frantic knocking on the door.

"Come in," Thranduil turned to see Crown Commander Aglardaer standing in the doorway to his sitting room.

"You called for me _Aran-nin_?" Aglardaer had bowed low even as he wondered if Thranduil was still upset about their discussion earlier in the day.

Thranduil waved a hand, "No need for formalities Aglardaer. Please be at ease."

The Commander straightened up and pinned Thranduil with a curious gaze but before he could lend voice to his questions Galion popped his head round Thranduil's bedchamber doors and beat him to it.

"How many days travel shall I pack for _Aran-nin_? I'm unsure how many uniforms I shall need to fetch you."

Thranduil turned to Aglardaer, "How long would it take to get to Imladris travelling light, hard and fast, resting only when needed?"

"Ah, um, two and half weeks, perhaps fifteen days at a push. Why? Who's going to Imladris? Why is Galion talking about getting you uniforms and preparing you a travelling pack?" Aglardaer arched a silver eyebrow at Thranduil.

Arahaelon settled himself comfortably into one of Thranduil's couches and looked on with interest. Now that he had gotten over the shock of Thranduil's little announcement he was looking forward to watching how everyone else took the news.

Thranduil for his part simply beamed at Aglardaer, "Legolas had been found, he's being cared for in Imladris and I shall be heading there as soon as politeness allows after Faervel's funeral tomorrow." The King gentled his smile, "Faervel's body has also been found and currently resides in Imladris' Halls of Rest. I intend to visit my son and pay my final respects to Faervel."

"Legolas? And Faervel? They've both been found in Imladris?" Aglardaer's face was a perfect picture of shock.

Thranduil nodded, "Yes, I received a missive from Lord Elrond only a few minutes ago whilst we were in session."

"That is incredible news Thranduil." Aglardaer looked relieved, "I had better call back our troops and the hounds out on the search. They will all be most relieved to know their Prince has been found alive and that the body of their comrade will be able to be properly honoured."

Aglardaer paused and directed a sharp look toward Thranduil, "Are you really heading to Imladris? Surely it would be better to send someone else in your stead – Rithel or Thanniel for example along with the appropriate escort. You cannot just up and leave Thranduil and certainly not so suddenly. You need to give me time to pull together a suitable escort and plan your route and a great many other things that must be taken into consideration when the King of the Woodland realm travels."

Thranduil gave an irritated growl, "I have already told Arahaelon that my mind is made up and I will tell you the same – I _am_ going to see my son and nothing you say will stop me. I did not call you here to approve of my plan to go, I called you here to tell you to get ready for you are coming with me."

"I-" Aglardaer began but he was interrupted by a polite but firm knocking on the door.

"Come," Thranduil beckoned and the door swung open to revel his Elite.

Arodon, Arthon and Duron entered and bowed low, "You called for us _Aran-nin_?" Their voices were as synchronised as their movements.

"Ah yes come in," Thranduil waved the trio into his large sitting room. "You have perfect timing – now that you're here I shan't have to repeat the instructions I was about to give to Aglardaer. Sit and be comfortable – you too Aglardaer we haven't much time and I only want to say this once."

Thranduil watched his four bodyguards settle themselves. Aglardaer still wore a mixture of worry and frustration upon his face, Arodon – leader of his Elite in Aglardaer's many absences also looked pensive – but then again the blonde _ellon_ was rather a fusspot in Thranduil's opinion. Which was quite a contrast to his younger brother Arthon who as ever looked excited at the prospect of some action. Duron, the eldest of the King's Elite gave nothing away with his face and Thranduil expected nothing else from the perpetually sombre Avari warrior.

The King smiled at them all, "As I have just finished telling Aglardaer I have had the most wonderful news; Legolas has been found as has Faervel's _hröa_ \- may _Eru_ bless his _fëa_ – both currently reside in Imladris and we will be heading there with all haste tomorrow after Faervel's funeral. I need you all to pack and prepare for the trip as well as plot the swiftest and safest path through the Mountains and to Imladris."

"I am pleased to hear that Lord Faervel has found peace and that _Ernil_ Legolas has been found safe," Duron flashed Thranduil a rare but brilliant smile.

"Though it is sad news about Lord Faervel it is truly brilliant news about the Prince _Aran-nin,_ " Arthon practically bounced in his seat, a wide smile set firmly on his face, happy that his King was happy once again and at the prospect of a trip beyond the borders of the realm.

Arodon for his part looked equally happy and flummoxed giving him a rather odd expression. "I am pleased to hear such wonderful news _Aran-nin_ but…we…you…you plan to leave for Imladris tomorrow _Aran-nin_? Surely you cannot leave so soon. I mean…there are numerous plans we need to make before you can undertake such a trip _Aran-nin_."

Aglardaer threw Thranduil a triumphant look, "Exactly what I said – I understand your need to see Legolas but this is all far to sudden – we need time -"

"And I am giving you time now," Thranduil interrupted irritably. "If you are wise you would cease in trying to tell me what I can and cannot do and when I can and cannot do it and leave to make all these plans you and Arodon speak of. You are my Elite are you not? Surely such a short trip will be nothing to you?"

"Going to Imladris means we must go through the Misty Mountains _Aran-nin,_ and they should not be taken so lightly as to dismiss them as a 'short trip'."

Aglardaer knew he was angering Thranduil but he would be a poor Royal bodyguard if he did not make his King aware of the risks this trip posed. Also he was the only one of the Elite who was close enough to Thranduil to speak to him like this and not be seriously reprimanded – there were definite benefits to being the King's best friend.

Best friend or not Thranduil still pinned Aglardaer with a glare and looked set to give him a verbal trashing but Aglardaer was spared when Arthon spoke up, his usually excitable voice replaced by a calm, respectful tone that diffused the King's anger.

"It will be as you have commanded _Aran-nin_ ; it is true that the Mountains pose a significant risk but we understand and respect your need to see the Prince. We shall do all in our power to see to it that you arrive in Imladris safely."

Duron nodded his dark head, "If it pleases you _Aran-nin_ we shall leave now to prepare for the trip and plan the best route."

Thranduil nodded and with a flick of his hand dismissed them. Aglardaer and Arodon both still looked pensive about the whole affair but they both stood, bowed low and deep by means of silent apology and left with Arthon and Duron to do as they had been bid.

Arahaelon gave a sigh as the door swung shut behind the four with a soft click, "You ought not to dismiss Aglardaer and Arodon's concerns quite so easily Thranduil. They are only doing their job in trying to look out for and protect you."

Thranduil ran a hand through his hair and huffed a sigh himself as he awaited the others he had summoned. "I know that and I do not fault them for it, but as I told you before I _need_ to see my son. I need to see Legolas."

**~o~**

Lady Ìdhes kept easy pace with the _singyll_ who had come to fetch her to the King. It puzzled her as to what could have caused the King to send for her so urgently after she had already spent a good portion of the morning cloistered with him planning Faervel's funeral. Had he had fresh news from the troops out searching? Had the Prince been found? Or perhaps… Ìdhes hardly dared let herself think it… perhaps Faervel's _hröa_ had been found?

The healer forced herself to take deep calming breaths – there was no point in letting her mind run away with her – she needed to simply remain calm and rational for now – she would find out why she had been summoned soon enough. Feeling centred once again Ìdhes hitched her skirts higher as she strode forward so that she walked side by side with the young page that lead the way.

Hands met hearts and heads bowed in respect as Lady Ìdhes passed by and the display simultaneously touched and broke her heart at the same time. It was late evening now and it was clear to see word of Faervel's funeral had long since circulated all-round the palace and indeed the entire Kingdom as every _elleth_ or _ellon_ she met paid their silent respects. Ìdhes gave small smiles in acknowledgement of each and every one; it was clear to her that Faervel's funeral would be very well attended indeed and the thought brought some small measure of comfort to her heart.

Gradually the corridors became more and more deserted and Lady Ìdhes took sudden notice of where they were – they were approaching the Royal quarters – an area that was generally kept very private and was always under heavy guard.

Ìdhes glanced to the young page beside her, "Where are going _singyll_?" She had assumed she would meet the King in his public office but it was clear that would not be the case as the guards standing in front of the great doors to the Royal quarters waved them through.

The young one smiled up at her, "The King requested all his guests be brought to his private chambers."

Ìdhes was startled, "Oh –did he mention what this meeting would be about?"

The page shook his curly head, "Nay _Hiril-nin_ only that it was urgent and you were to attend him with all haste. You are one of a number he has summoned – besides that I know no more."

Lady Ìdhes would have probed some more, unable to quell her curiosity any longer but then they were before an elaborately decorated heavy oak door and the page was politely knocking upon it.

" _Hiril_ Ìdhes here to see _Aran_ Thranduil."

The door was opened and Ìdhes was surprised to see it had been by none other than the King himself. Startled she curtsied low, " _Mae govannen Aran-nin_ I came as quickly as I could."

The King opened the door fully and waved her inside before he dismissed the page. "I thank you for coming so quickly _Hiril-nin_." The King gestured toward a plush couch, "Please make yourself comfortable."

Lady Ìdhes gave a nervous smile before doing as instructed and sitting next to the King's Regent, the Lord Arahaelon. Hadn't the page said there would be others here? She smoothed her skirts in a nervous gesture feeling infinitely underdressed for the occasion of being in the King's own private living room.

"Would you care for a drink _Hiril-nin_?" The King offered, a bottle of sparkling lemonade at the ready.

"Uh, umm n-nay _Ara-nin_ I am well. _Le fael_." Ìdhes was beyond nervous about having her _King_ serve _her_.

The King gave a nod and set the bottle down before shooting an unreadable look at Lord Arahaelon who quickly stood, bowed to her hand on heart then left the room, going further into the King's chambers.

The King sat in a smaller chair opposite her and to Ìdhes it seemed the blonde was gathering himself for what he was about to say and the thought made her heart clench in anxious anticipation.

Finally with a deep inhale of breath the King focused his icy blue orbs on her completely.

"Faervel has been found."

Ìdhes felt as though her heart had stopped, "F-found?"

The King gave her a gentle smile and nodded, "Yes his _hröa_ has been found."

Lady Ìdhes nodded dumbly; it was wonderful news and yet her heart raced wildly. What condition was he in? She knew deep down that it was only Faervel's body and not her son himself but still it mattered to her to know how he was. Had he been found whole or had he been irreparably damaged, hurt, or mauled? Would they be able to have an open viewing before his pyre burning ceremony? Or would they be forced to shroud him?

Ìdhes' heart beat hard and furiously against her chest and she took a deep breath. She had to know. She _had_ to.

"Th-that is wonderful news _Aran-nin_ now he can be properly honoured." Ìdhes steeled herself, "How…how is he…wh-where is he…how…" The healer drew in a shuddery breath unable to ask what she really wished.

Luckily the King seemed to understand and he drew near handing her a silken handkerchief to mop at the tears that Ìdhes hadn't even noticed.

"Faervel is in Imladris and he lies in Lord Elrond's Halls of Rest. His _hröa_ is safe and is watched over by your very own kin."

"Im-Imladris? Faervel rests in Imladris?" Lady Ìdhes knew she sounded ridiculous parroting what the King had just told her yet she could hardly believe what she was hearing.

It was beyond anything she could have hoped for or imagined; for her hopes of finding Faervel's _hröa_ had been fast waning with each day the troops sent back no positive word. She had been scared for the fate of her son's _fëa_ and anguished at the thought of his body lying broken and alone in the wilds. To have word now that her son's _hröa_ had been found and lay at rest in her homeland was nothing short of miraculous to Ìdhes.

"That is better news than I could ever have hoped for _Aran-nin_. I am comforted to know Faervel's _hröa_ has not been left to the ravages of the wild and is instead being watched over and cared for – and by my very own kin nonetheless. Tis heartening news indeed."

The King nodded his head in agreement, "Yes I had hoped that knowing Faervel has found rest in your homeland would lend you some measure of comfort at this difficult time."

The King sat back and straightened himself in his chair once more, "How would you like us to proceed from here? Faervel's funeral and memorial service is tomorrow and we will not be able to bring his _hröa_ back here in time to have the appropriate pyre burning ceremonies but if you wish it I will have a contingent set out at once to bring Faervel back home to complete the full funeral rites."

Lady Ìdhes rolled the idea round in her mind. She knew it would take some time to transport a body all the way from her homeland of Imladris to the Woodland realm – and if those bringing back her son's _hröa_ were to meet trouble in the Misty Mountains then it could take even longer indeed. And they would be sure to meet trouble for the scent of death would be a clarion call to all the fell things that lived in the Mountains; it would be devastating beyond words if she were to lose Faervel's _hröa_ again nor did she want there to be any further loss of life or injuries on her and Faervel's behalf.

And not only that, the sound of the Sea was all but roaring in Lady Ìdhes' ears. She felt the sea longing keenly; everyday it gnawed away at her weakening her resolve to stay even a minute longer than she had to on this side of the Seas. She had no one and nothing left here now – all she wanted to do was set sail and be reunited with her husband and all her family whom she had missed for so long. Ìdhes knew she'd have to wait a while for _Mandos_ to release Faervel back to her but it would be a wait made bearable in the company of her husband and family. She needed to leave – had to sail as soon as was possible and to have to wait for Faervel's _hröa_ to be brought back to the Woodland realm was a wait that Ìdhes just could not manage.

She had another idea instead and she could only hope her King would allow it.

Lady Ìdhes smoothed her skirts once more in a nervous gesture, "I have a request _Aran-nin,_ one I hope you will grant."

The King nodded, "Of course _Hiril-nin_ , what is it? If it is within my power then it shall be done."

Ìdhes gave a nervous little smile, "I do not want Faervel's _hröa_ to be brought back here _Aran-nin_ , I would rather he remain in Imladris to be cremated there. The journey to bring him back would be perilous and I would put no others in danger nor risk losing all I have left of my son again."

The healer took a fortifying breath, "Also, the Sea calls to me – louder every day and I do not think I could stand the wait for Faervel to be returned to me here. Instead I would prefer to make a brief sojourn to my homeland and lay Faervel's _hröa_ into eternal rest before I carry on to Mithlond. I think…I think it is fitting – for Faervel was half Sindar and half Noldor – and this way he will be honoured and remembered by his friends and fellow _maethyr_ in the land of his birth and laid to peace and rest in the land of his ancestors. He shall have the best of both worlds this way."

The King gave Lady Ìdhes a gentle smile, "I think that is a most reasonable request and a perfect solution. I shall let _Hir_ Elrond know of your request – I am sure he will not refuse you and will do everything to accommodate you."

" _Hannon-le Aran-nin_ you have been most kind to me and I appreciate it."

The King dipped his head slightly with his hand on heart but Ìdhes noted he did not dismiss her. As before, the blonde monarch seemed to be gathering himself for what he was about to say, as though he were carefully weighing up his words and Ìdhes felt nerves flutter in her stomach once more. What else did her King have to say to her?

The King clasped his jewelled hands before him and pinned Lady Ìdhes with a rather intense look, "I must say I am rather pleased with your decision to lay Faervel to rest in Imladris."

Ìdhes felt her nerves give way to confusion – if anything she had been somewhat nervous that the King would feel affronted by her decision knowing the strained relationship between the two realms. She did not understand why he would be genuinely glad of it but she had no reason to ponder as her question was answered as the King continued.

"You see I have also had news of Legolas – he too currently resides in Imladris – in _Hir_ Elrond's healing halls."

Ìdhes could not stop herself from interrupting in happy exclamation, "That is wonderful news _Aran-nin_."

The King did not seem to mind the interruption, "Yes – it is glad tidings indeed for I am relieved to finally know the whereabouts of my son. Yet he is in a grave way and though I know he is in very capable hands I find myself unable to put my worries for Legolas aside. So I shall be leaving for Imladris on the morrow after Faervel's funeral service."

Ìdhes' surprise must have shown on her face for the King gave her a wry smile before he continued.

"I know it is rather short notice but I have a pressing need to see my son," the King gave a careless shrug of his shoulders. "I am glad of your decision as whilst I am in your homeland I shall be able to pay my final respects to Faervel in person as he so deserves. Faervel has fulfilled all the vows he took in promising to protect Legolas and I am glad I will have the chance to thank him for all he has done."

Lady Ìdhes gave the King a watery, heartfelt smiled touched at his words and dabbed at her eyes with the borrowed handkerchief, " _Hannon-le Aran-nin_ truly both Faervel and I are blessed by your kindness."

"It is only the very least you both deserve. Now come, tell me how you fare for tomorrows service. I trust you approve of all that has been prepared?"

Ìdhes smiled at her King and nodded as the two slipped into discussion of the following day's ceremonies before they turned their attention to Lady Ìdhes travelling plans as they plotted the changes necessary to allow her to take her requested sojourn back to her homeland to lay to rest her son.

Thought she kept her eyes on her King and her mind on the conversation at hand Ìdhes felt her heart lift higher than it had in days. At last her torment over the whereabouts of Faervel's _hröa_ was over and not only would she be able to lay him to rest she would also be able to see her homeland once more before she left these lands for good.

**~o~**

Legolas stirred slightly and prised opened his eyes for a few moments as he allowed his gaze to blearily sweep around the room. His heart stopped for a moment as his tired, bleary gaze caught a glimpse of warm tanned skin and sleek ebony hair.

Legolas closed his eyes and let himself sink deeper into the pillows behind him in relief, "Ai Vel, I cannot tell you how relieved I am to find you here – I have been having the most awful and vivid nightmare."

Elrohir stared at the Prince; though Legolas' words had been mumbled in sleep and exhaustion the twin had heard them well enough. Was Legolas hallucinating? Why did he seem to think his dead friend was here with him?

Before Elrohir could say or do anything however Legolas was sleepily mumbling again.

"I dreamt you were dead Vel, killed at the hands of the _yrch._ I am so glad tis not so and you are here."

Legolas held a trembling arm out, toward Elrohir and the twin's heart clenched. No matter how he wanted to take the Princes' arm and offer the comfort the blonde so desperately sought it would be wrong to give him false hope and further fuel this hallucination or whatever it was Legolas was currently experiencing.

Instead Elrohir placed a gentle arm upon the blonde's shoulder and shook lightly, "Legolas, _Ernil-nin_ wake up." He shook the Prince a little harder, "Wake up, I think you are hallucinating."

Legolas jerked awake as he was shaken and blinked his eyes rapidly a few times as he came to full awareness. Startled he looked around and memory flooded back to him. He was injured – badly so, he was in Imladris and Faervel was indeed dead. That hadn't been a dream – it was real and very much the truth and grief hit Legolas all over again, a painful and tight feeling right in the centre of his chest. He closed his eyes, breathed through the pain and swallowed past the tearful lump in his throat.

With a shuddering sigh Legolas opened his eyes and looked at Elrohir apologetically, "I am sorry Elrohir, truly, I do not know what came over me to call out to you as I did. Forgive me."

Elrohir smiled kindly at the Prince, "There is nothing to forgive – we have given you a rather lot of medicines in a short space of time – that can addle the mind sometimes and lead to hallucinations, visions and the like."

"Hm," Legolas closed his eyes again; how he wished the hallucination had been real – for those few moments he had felt light of heart and as though all was well in the world once more. It had felt so real and it was crushing to know it had been nothing but a figment of his grieving imagination.

The Prince heaved another heavy sigh, "You remind me of him – perhaps that is why my mind was fooled just then."

Elrohir sat up straighter in his seat his interest sparked, "Oh?"

Legolas opened tired, grief filled blue eyes and looked at the twin sitting at his bedside, "Yes, Faervel carried an aura of caring and peace about him as do you – your presence is similar to his. Not to mention that though Faervel was half Sindar he looked almost entirely Noldor. Only his eyes, which were the warmest shade of brown, gave him away."

Elrohir smiled at the blonde and leaned forward a bit more eager to have Legolas continue. It could oftentimes be healing and cathartic for those grieving to speak of and reminisce on their lost loved ones – hopefully that would prove to be the case for Legolas.

"Vel was a very cheerful _ellon_ and very much a mother hen – tendencies you also seem to share." Legolas gave Elrohir the tiniest smirk thought it did not last long as grief once again found its way back onto his countenance.

"Still Vel is… _was_ my best friend; indeed he was the very first friend I ever made and I should not have so easily gotten you both mixed up like that."

Elrohir waved aside Legolas' apology, "Do not beat yourself up about it – as I said before I take no offence."

Legolas gave him a weak smile before he shut his eyes again and threw his good arm across them and Elrohir resisted the urge to sigh. It seemed like Legolas wasn't yet at the stage of being able to speak about his friend without it bringing him pain. It was too soon and Elrohir should have known better rather than trying to coax the Prince into speaking and he blamed it on his own exhaustion.

The younger twin settled back into his chair and rubbed a hand over his weary face. He was tired, very tired but had been called upon to sit with Legolas after his _Adar_ had been called away to deal with a small group of _edain_ who had turned up at the last Homely House with grievously wounded among them.

Elrohir rubbed his eyes once more and assuming that the deathly still Prince had fallen back asleep he stood and tugged Legolas' tousled sheets closer round the blonde.

"Where is he now?"

"Huh?" Elrohir dropped the blankets he had been fussing with and looked to Legolas in surprise. He had been sure the Prince had fallen back asleep.

But as Legolas removed his hand from where it had been thrown over his eyes he could see that the blonde was very much awake and fighting back tears.

"Vel – where is he now…I…I mean his _hröa_ …where have you put him?"

Elrohir sat on the Prince's bed and gave him a quick, comforting squeeze, "Worry not – he has been properly honoured - washed, cleaned and dressed as befits his station and he lies now in our Halls of Rest."

"A-alone?" Legolas' heart threatened to break at the very thought.

"Nay, of course not – he has been watched over night and day at all times – we would not leave him to lie alone in foreign Halls. In fact Elladan is with him now and will watch over him this night whilst yesterday he was watched over by _Hir_ Glorfindel."

" _Hir_ Glorfindel?"

Elrohir nodded, "Yes, though we have peace in these lands now we do know what it is to lose a comrade in arms, a friend, a brother – we would not dishonour Faervel by leaving him alone. Until arrangements are made for committing him to _Mandos_ you can rest assured that we will watch over him day and night."

Legolas gave the tiniest of smiles and laid his good hand on his heart, " _Hannon-le_ for Vel is…was so very dear to me." The Prince gave another small upward quirk of his lips, "He would be tickled to know that the legendary balrog-slayer _Hir_ Glorfindel himself has been watching over him. Vel used to hero worship him so very much when we were elflings."

Legolas' voice became choked and he took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself and his raw, raging emotions, "Would that they had met under different circumstances."

Legolas bit his lip hard in an effort to stop the tears he could feel were coming – he did not want to cry – not again – he had cried so much already. Yet the reality of Faervel's death was really beginning to sink in now – it was no mere awful nightmare it was truth. Faervel was lying in the Imladris Halls of Rest dead and it was all his fault. If only Faervel hadn't come after him he would still be alive. Alive and able to meet _Hir_ Glorfindel in the flesh rather than be watched over by him in death.

The first tear slipped free and several more swiftly followed as a rather horrifying thought dawned on Legolas.

"He…Vel…he…he won't…won't be able to…to be brought back home…will he?" Legolas looked over at Elrohir with fear-filled, teary eyes as he willed the other _ellon_ to contradict him.

Elrohir heaved a deep sigh and once again gave Legolas' arm a comforting squeeze, "Nay…I do not imagine that Faervel's _hröa_ will be able to be returned to the Woodland Realm. The journey would be too perilous."

Legolas closed his eyes tight against the pain that seared through his heart at Elrohir's confirmation of his fears. Legolas clutched at his chest as the pain worsened - it was all getting to be too much. For Faervel to have died in a foreign land was terrible enough but to know that his friend would not even have the chance to return to his homeland was devastating. The guilt and grief that Legolas felt over this fact was crushing –and the Prince drew his knees up to his chest and curled in on himself easily ignoring the pain that flared in his many wounds at the action.

He deserved the pain after all; for ultimately had he been a better, more observant Captain his troop would never have been ambushed and had he been stronger he would never have been captured and Faervel would never have had to come after him.

Legolas wrapped both arms tightly round himself and began to sob in earnest.

"Legolas please, do not upset yourself so _Ernil-nin_ and please do lie straight – you will agitate your wounds, likely rip some of your stitches and hurt yourself further."

Elrohir watched helplessly as Legolas ignored him and curled into an even smaller ball. The strain was too great for the delicate stitches in the Princes' injured shoulder and Elrohir looked on horrified as crimson slowly blossomed across the bandages swathed about the blonde's upper half.

Elrohir's hand hovered over the blonde uncertain how to attempt to get the Prince to lie straight again.

"Legolas _annin,_ I really must insist you lie properly – you have torn your stitches now and I shall have to re-do them again. Please, that position is not good for you nor can it be comfortable – surely you do not want more pain?"

"Tis what I deserve," wailed Legolas now completely distraught, "Faervel lies dead and his _hröa_ must remain here in a foreign land forevermore when it was my ineptitude and failure as his Captain that got him killed in the first place. I am the one who should be lying on that slab in your Halls of Rest – not Vel. He did not deserve this. He should still be alive, alive and free to live out his days in his usual cheerful happiness."

Legolas took in a shuddering tearful breath and tried to curl in on himself even more despite the fact he could feel the blood from his once again torn shoulder seep down his back even faster at this action.

"He is…. _was…_ an immortal being and yet his life has been cut short after only a single millennium. It is not fair – he was always the sensible one, always cautious, slow to folly and yet he is dead. And I… _I_ who always rush headlong into things without thought for the consequences remain alive. How is that fair? How? Damn his pledges and promises and damn my _Adar_ for binding him to them in the first place."

Elrohir watched Legolas rant and rave with increasing distress – he had no idea how to calm the blonde _ellon_ and wished more than anything his _Adar_ were here to help. He had never been good at handling grief – his own disastrous way of handling his _Naneth's_ sailing was testament to that fact.

Yet he wanted to do something – had to do something – for now Legolas was beyond agitated as great heaving sobs shook his prone, still injured body and he now raved on about how pure and good his friend was and how completely unworthy Legolas was to have had Faervel in his life.

The level of guilt Legolas was showing over a death that Elrohir was sure was completely accidental was worrying in the extreme and a sign that the Prince had once again lost his grip on reality and was once more in the grasp of some hallucination or wild imaginings that were evidently making things seem much worse than they were.

The young _Peredhil_ sighed and summoned up the last dredges of his energy and prayed to any interested _Valar_ that his decision would help rather than further harm the blonde Prince he had become rather quickly fond of.

Elrohir firmly placed his hand upon Legolas' head and forcibly pushed his grieving _fëa_ into what would hopefully be a deep, restful and healing sleep.

Guilt softened at the edges and slowly faded along with the sharp pain of grief in Legolas' heart and the teary Prince wondered at it for a brief moment before his consciousness fled him too.

Elrohir collapsed back onto his chair utterly drained from the brief display of power – and exhaustion claimed him as black begun to creep into his vison.

The hope that he had not pushed Legolas' _fëa_ so deep that it was in danger of being lost to the Darkness once more was Elrohir's last fretful thought before he too succumbed to sleep.

**~o~**

Rithel gave Thanniel's hand a quick comforting squeeze as they were announced to her _Adar._ The silver haired Princess sought comfort as much and she was trying to give it. For she had absolutely no idea why they had both been so hurriedly summoned before her _Adar_ and King.

Her stomach flip-flopped in the most alarming way even as she prayed that it was not any further bad news about her precious _Lasseg._ She had already heard the report from the troops out hunting with the bloodhounds earlier in the day – it had not been good news and Rithel really did not know how much more she could take before despair would overwhelm her completely.

The Crown Princess had no further time to worry as the door was swung open by her _Adar_ himself and both she and Thanniel dropped into low curtseys.

" _Mae govannen Aran-nin._ "

" _Suilad Adar_ we came as soon as we could. I hope you did not wait long," Rithel straightened up alongside Thanniel the two of them still holding hands.

"Nay – I have had plenty of others to speak with and see to - indeed my Elite and Lord Arahaelon have just left me so if I have waited I have not noticed." Thranduil gestured them to sit, "Please be at ease both of you and truly you needn't look quite so worried. I have not summoned you here with ill news."

Thanniel seemed to relax a fraction at that as she sat down next to Rithel, though the Princess noted that the death grip Thanniel had on her hand had not diminished in the slightest. Rithel gave the dark haired _elleth's_ hand another quick squeeze and smiled at her before she turned to face her _Adar._

"What news then _Adar?_ The page said it was of great import and that we were to make all haste and I must confess he has scared us half way to _Mandos_."

Thanniel simply nodded in agreement with Rithel – she was too breathless with a horrid mixture of anticipation and fear to speak.

"As I've said _Iell-nin_ you needn't worry for I have had wonderful news concerning _Lasseg."_ Thranduil paused to grace both _ellith_ with a warm smile, "He has been found! He is in Imladris – and Faervel's _hröa_ rests there with him. They have both been found."

Rithel held a hand to her mouth, speechless and in shock whilst Thanniel clapped her hands and gave a loud exclamation thanking the _Valar_.

Rithel stared at her _Adar_ and knew by the relief and the joy she could see clear as day in his eyes that the news was true and she was not simply imagining things. Her precious _tithen gwanûr,_ her _Lasseg_ was finally found. The Princess dropped her silver haired head and clasped her hands as she too began to give thanks to _Elbereth_ and the _Valar_ above for hearing her cries and answering her prayers. Her silent moment was cut short as Thanniel began to speak excitedly.

"Oh _Aran-nin_ I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear such news – that Legolas has been found and is with our kin and no longer in the hands of his captives. _Ai Valar_ my heart sings with joy. How is he? Has he sustained many injuries? Is he conscious? Any broken bones? Does he know of Faervel's death? How has he come to be in Imladris? How long must he stay there? When will he be able to return to us? Wh- "

Thranduil held up a hand to stop Thanniel mid-flow and Rithel had to supress a giggle at the former nanny's bombardment of her _Adar._ Thanniel loved her little brother like her own son and had been sick with worry for him; Rithel could very well understand the other _elleth's_ enthusiasm.

As could Thranduil who smiled kindly at the _elleth_ who had so selflessly raised his son as her own and still continued to look out for him all these centuries later.

" _Sîdh_ Thanniel I shall tell you what I know, though I fear it may not answer the all questions you have for the missive that came to me was succinct."

Both Rithel and Thanniel listened completely enraptured as Thranduil relayed the message he had received once more. The King didn't mind – he was glad of the opportunity to finally be sharing some good news and the words 'Legolas has been found' had yet to sound dull to him.

"…and so with Legolas being as unwell as he is and alone in a foreign land I will be leaving with all haste tomorrow after Faervel's funeral to attend him and be by his side. Rithel I shall be instating you as my Regent as of first light tomorrow morning and Thanniel I have a favour to ask of you if you would."

"Yes of course _Aran-nin_ what would y- " Thanniel's polite reply was cut off by Rithel's shocked cry.

"What! You are leaving to go and see _Lasseg_ and you intend to leave me here as your Regent? What of Lord Arahaelon? Is he not your Regent? Why must I now take up the mantle? I want to come with you – I was to see _Lasseg_ – not stay here and play at being Queen."

"Be silent Rithel – you have been extremely rude in interrupting Thanniel and your behaviour is most unbecoming of someone of your station." Thranduil glowered at his daughter.

"But _Adar -"_

"I _said_ hold your tongue Rithel – I will not say it again. In fact you can leave now and go to my private study, I shall met you there shortly."

Rithel wanted to protest but one glance at her _Adar_ told her that another word out of turn on her part would not be met kindly just then.

"Forgive me my rudeness Thanniel, I spoke out of turn." With a small tilt of her head to Thanniel and a half curtsey to her _Adar_ Rithel flounced out of the room.

Thranduil dragged a hand through his increasingly dishevelled hair as he looked after his suddenly brattish daughter and sighed.

"I am sorry about that Thanniel – I rather hoped Rithel would take the news of her staying behind a bit better than that."

Thanniel gave a smile, "There is no need for apologies _Aran-nin_ , _Riel_ Rithel is fond of her little brother - that is understandable. Now may I ask, what favour did you want of me?"

"Ah yes," Thranduil put aside thoughts of the upcoming argument with his headstrong daughter and gave Thanniel his full attention. "Though the finding of Faervel's _hröa_ has brought a measure of peace to Lady Ìdhes she still intends to sail. Arda has lost its light and joy for her and she will be setting forth for Mithlond with a stop to call upon her homeland to lay Faervel to rest along the way. She shall leave in ten days and I would ask that you accompany her on the journey right up to the point where she is delivered safely into Círdan's care. I will of course provide you both with a full and proper escort but I would wish her to have some company in her last days on Arda besides _maethyr_ with whom she has little or no acquaintance."

"Of course _Aran-nin._ I would be glad to be of aid to such a good friend as Lady Ìdhes in her hour of need. I shall see to her comfort during this her last journey."

And Thanniel meant every word she spoke for she and Ìdhes had been friends for an age. They had first met shortly after King Thranduil's coronation when the dark haired Noldor _elleth_ had moved to the Woodland realm to be with her soon-to-be-husband Mallosson. They had remained friends as both became _nestryn_ in the palace under Calelon before Thanniel's duties as nursemaid to Legolas had seen her called away. Even then they had stayed close friends as Faervel and Legolas had soon gotten to know each other and became fast friends themselves.

Thanniel was sad to hear the news of her goods friends' sailing but she hadn't really expected anything else – Ìdhes had now lost all her family on Arda – why would she stay? Yes, it would be sad to say goodbye to such an old and dear friend but Thanniel would definitely not leave Ìdhes to face the upcoming challenges of laying her son to rest and her last journey on Arda alone. She would be with her every step of the way starting with tomorrow's memorial service for Faervel.

"Yes _Aran-nin_ I will speak to Lady Ìdhes myself and let her know that I shall be attending her during her final journey."

" _Hannon-le_ Thanniel – that sets my heart at ease and I'm sure Lady Ìdhes will greatly appreciate having a friend with her. For she will surely need you before all is over."

The King ran a hand through his hair and looked to the door through which Rithel had stormed off, "Well if you will excuse me Thanniel I had best go and try to calm Rithel."

"Yes of course _Aran-nin,_ but please…may I ask one thing of you?"

"Of course _Hiril-nin_ , speak freely," Thranduil wondered what his son's beloved mentor would ask of him.

"Once I have seen Lady Ìdhes safely to Mithlond I would ask that you allow me to return to Imladris should Legolas still be there to be with him. I should hate for him to be alone there for any lengthy period of time."

Thanniel fidgeted with her hands a little unsure if she was overstepping the mark; for she never wanted to seem as though she was replacing the boy's mother but the love she felt for Legolas whom she had raised from elflinghood often confused those boundaries.

Thranduil smiled – he should have known it would be request like this from Thanniel. Her love for Legolas was as deep as any _Naneth's_ would be.

"That is perfectly acceptable – Legolas will be overjoyed to see you again and have your company. Upon arrival in Imladris I shall write and let you know Elrond's prognosis regarding Legolas and how long his recovery is likely to take so you can plan accordingly."

Thranduil sighed, "He is rather unwell as I said before and I have a feeling your stay with Elrond may well be a prolonged one. I myself will stay as long as I can but…in the end I am King and needed here so I am most appreciative of your kind offer to care for my son once more Thanniel. Truly, I do not think I will ever be able to repay you for all you have done for Legolas and indeed this family."

Thanniel simply bowed her head to her King, heart glad he had so easily granted her request. "Legolas is and will forever be a source of joy in my life – I need nothing more than that. _Le fael_ for granting my wish _Aran-nin_ ; I shall take my leave now lest I delay your meeting with _Riel_ Rithel any longer."

Thranduil nodded his head to Thanniel as she curtsied and exited the room. It was time to face down his daughter.

**~o~**

"I'm really not _asking_ you to do this Rithel as you seem to mistakenly think – it is an order. You _will_ be instated as my Regent in my absence. I will not be gone overlong and it is about time you got a bit more experience of the Throne. It is not often that I am out of the realm and this will be a good chance for you to gain experience in the running of it in my complete absence."

Thranduil gently massaged his temples and cursed the stubbornness of his line. This conversation (argument) had been going round in circles and had now dragged on for far too long and Thranduil was tired of it.

"I have had more than enough experience in running the realm in your absence _Adar_ – in case you forgot it was I _not_ Lord Arahaelon who was instated as Regent after the Battle with the Great Serpents of the North. I think I handled myself admirably then and have nothing more to prove."

Thranduil flinched ever so slightly at the mention of that disastrous and cursed battle before he pinned his daughter with a level stare. "That was centuries ago Rithel – things change and one can ever have enough experience. Now I'll not debate this with you any further."

Thranduil sighed, gentled his tone and moved to slip a comforting arm round his daughter. "I know how you long to see _Lasseg_ – trust me I feel the very same longing in my own heart; but it would be foolishness of the highest order to have the entire Royal line out of the realm and taking on the treacherousness of the Misty Mountains at the same time. You were born to this position Rithel, and as well as the privileges you must fully accept the responsibilities. Now please argue with me no more – I shall go and return as swiftly as possible and I promise you now that you can be a part of the escort to accompany _Lasseg_ on his trip back home. Is that agreeable to you?"

Rithel nodded miserably knowing she would not win this fight, "I just miss him so badly _Adar_ and I'm so very worried. You yourself said he is very unwell and we both felt that awful near snapping of our bond with _Lasseg_. I just want to see him, see for myself how he fares, take care of him…" Rithel's voice broke as she tried in vain to hold back a sob, "I just want to make sure he is well."

Thranduil held his daughter tighter, now with both arms. "I know, I know _iell-nin_ but please just trust me and let me go and be the _Adar_ I should have been to him more often. Please. I have nearly lost my mind with worry for him and I just _need_ to go and tend to him now. I promise you, you will see him soon enough. I shall even get _Lasseg_ to write you as soon as he is able. I promise…please do not cry – I do not want to have to worry over you whilst I am away – _annin iell-nin."_

Thranduil held his daughter close resting his cheek against her silver head as he willed her to understand the desperate need of a parent to tend to their ailing child.

Rithel gave a sniff against her _Adar's_ broad chest and willed herself to calm and be strong for him. She knew he had gone through hell recently – she could see the strain and the pain in his eyes. She would do this, she could do this – Legolas was alive and found and that was something to be glad about. She would get her turn to see her baby brother in good time.

Rithel took another moment to enjoy the safety and comfort of being enveloped in her _Adar's_ arms before she pulled back and dried her eyes. "I trust you _Adar –_ I shall stay and reign in your absence and I know you will do your best by _Lasseg_ for you always have – never think otherwise _._ He will be thrilled to see you _Adar_ and I shall be strong and wait patiently for my chance to see him. You needn't worry over me."

Thranduil smiled and pulled Rithel close again, " _Hannon-le iell-nin, hannon le."_

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riel – Princess
> 
> Aran-nin/Aran - My King/King
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Ellon/Ellyn – Male Elf/Elves
> 
> Hröa – Body (Quenya)
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) Warriors
> 
> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Le fael – Literally: You are generous – Sindarin version of Thank you
> 
> Mellon-nin - My friend
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Ernil / Ernil-nin – Prince / My Prince
> 
> Singyll – Page / Herald
> 
> Elleth - Female elf
> 
> Ellith – Female Elves
> 
> Hiril-nin/Hiril - My Lady/Lady
> 
> Mae Govannen – Well met
> 
> Yrch – (Plural of Orch) – Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Hir – Lord
> 
> Annin - Literally: For me – Sindarin version of Please
> 
> Naneth - Mother
> 
> Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas
> 
> Suilad – Greetings
> 
> Iell-nin – My Daughter
> 
> Tithen – Little
> 
> Gwanûr - Brother
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Nestryn – (plural) Healers


	34. Chapter 34

Lady Ìdhes stroked Rafn's muzzle softly as she looked out across the courtyard and over to the public garden that was awash with colour now that spring had taken a solid hold of the Woodland Realm. It looked as though it would be a truly beautiful day – the rapidly rising sun promised a cloudless blue sky with gentle wisps of refreshing wind that would carry the sound of cheerful birdsong and the smell of newly bloomed flowers.

A beautiful day that would be marred by the fact that Ìdhes would be attending the funeral of Faervel – her only son, her only child. It was going to be a long and difficult day ahead. All was in place and the ceremony would begin in three hours' time. It looked as though the service would be very well attended indeed, for it seemed her son was popular with the _maethyr_ and civilian _eledhrim_ alike. Even elves from the furthest, most Southern villages had made the trip to see her son's memory honoured and it made Ìdhes' heart feel glad to know that she had raised such a friendly, well liked _ellon._

The healer sighed and straightened her veil; she had been understandably unable to sleep and thus at first light had decided to come and tend to Rafn – Faervel's war horse – and get the stallion ready for attending the memorial service as was customary. Ìdhes had hoped that the task would take up a good chunk of the morning and thus occupy her mind but alas for her she was finished already and there was still another three torturous hours before the ceremonies would begin.

Lady Ìdhes ran a critical eye over Rafn – checking (more like hoping) if there was anything she had forgotten to do. Rafn stood tall and proud – the white markings that spoke of grieving stood out starkly on his black pelt and the white ribbons woven into his mane gave the horse a sombre look.

With a deep sigh Ìdhes gave the stallion a fond farewell pat, "Be good now Rafn and do not muss your markings nor your mane. I shall see you at the ceremony."

The dark haired healer gathered her skirts to go and Rafn gave a great long, mournful whinny. He had been like that all morning – whenever it looked as though Ìdhes would leave.

She reached her arms out round his neck and gave Rafn a firm hug, "Please be good Rafn, for your former master please be good. Be good for Vel – one last time."

With another gentle stroke Lady Ìdhes pulled back and made her way out of the stables doing her best to ignore the black stallion's mournful cries behind her. Rafn knew that his master was no more; elven steeds were exceptionally clever like that and they grieved over their masters just the same as family and friends did. Rafn had been particularly mournful according to the stable hands – seeming to suffer some form of guilt.

Ìdhes sighed and quickened her step as the horse's pitiful cries grew louder and all the more desperate. She sorely hoped that Rafn would be alright and in time take on a new master and continue to serve the Realm. It would be a dreadful waste if the beautiful horse were to be lost to grief. Or perhaps she ought to consider taking him with her when she sailed?

Ìdhes placed the thought to the back of her mind for the time being as she rounded the corner and caught a glimpse of the glade Faervel's memorial would be held in. She needed to take things once step at a time, she had to survive today first – then and only then would she give thought to the future.

Resolutely Lady Ìdhes walked on toward her home doing her very best not to cry as she spied the priests and priestesses of _Nienna_ begin their blessing of the glade.

**~o~**

Celegil watched as the last of the guests attending Faervel's funeral got settled into position. There was a huge turnout – she had always known Faervel to be popular but this was quite the crowd. Elves were even settled high in the branches of the oaks that surrounded the peaceful glade such was the number of the gathering.

Celegil felt her heart lift a little, glad that so many would be there to commit Faervel to memory and _Mandos_. She glanced round at the rest of her troop beside her – all adorned in the grieving colours of white – an unexpected request from Faervel's _Naneth_ Lady Ìdhes. For traditionally only the family members of the deceased wore white whilst other mourners wore black. Yet Lady Ìdhes had asked them all to wear white today; for Faervel had considered his troop as close as family – brother and sisters – and thus Lady Ìdhes felt it would be fitting for them to attend the funeral garbed as such.

Celegil was touched by the warm gesture and again thanked all the _Valar_ that she had been deemed well enough by the healers to attend today. Hers had been a long slow recovery from the spider's poison and even though she had left the healing halls she had been ordered to strict bedrest with the _nestryn_ checking in on her daily . She would have been beside herself had she not been able to come and honour one of her fallen and dearly loved comrades. She glanced down the line of her troop again, both Hadril and Arasson were also in attendance; though judging by the fact that they sat and did not stand they were probably both still too unwell to be here. But like her they were unwilling to miss their chance to say goodbye to Faervel.

Celegil sighed as the full magnitude of the occasion finally hit her. They were here to say goodbye to Faervel. Dear, sweet, too kind, too caring, ever loving and ever cheerful Faervel. Celegil bit her lip to tamp down on the tears that threatened. She had thought it had been some error, some terrible mistake when she had heard that Faervel had died but yet here they were – at his funeral.

And his funeral was about to begin – for there down the path came the final two guests. Faervel's _Naneth_ Lady Ìdhes and King Thranduil.

**~o~**

Thranduil walked with slow, measured steps with Lady Ìdhes on his arm. He could tell she was already struggling - he could feel a fine tremor run all through her body as she doubtlessly tried to contain her emotions. He gave her arm the briefest and gentlest of squeezes as he paused to let Lady Ìdhes take up her positon before he carried on down the rest of the pathway to his own.

Thranduil's heart felt heavy – this was going to be such a difficult day all round for so many. He was especially dreading the role he had to play in the day's ceremonies and he hoped he would do the role and Faervel justice.

For he would be master of ceremonies today. Though Thranduil always attended the funerals of each and every single one of his _eledhrim,_ warrior and civilian alike, he usually played no role in the ceremonies – he only paid his respects by his attendance whist the priests and priestesses of the varying _Valar_ conducted the memorials as tradition dictated.

However today was different, for Faervel was not just any _maethron_ – he was a Royal Bodyguard - and they alone received the honour of the reigning monarch of the realm conducting their funerals. Twas a heartfelt show of respect and honour for one who had given up their life in service to the Royal family.

Thranduil had never had to conduct the ceremony before. Even when his own _Adar_ Oropher had fallen, against the odds Oropher's personal bodyguard (and now Thranduil's own Regent) Lord Arahaelon had somehow survived sparing Thranduil the experience. An experience the blonde had hoped he would never have to have but alas…

The King drew in a deep and calming breath – he was in position now – at the head of the glade upon a small grassy knoll just in front of the priests and priestesses of _Mandos, Nienna_ and _Eru._ A few feet in front of him, in the centre of the glade was Faervel's unlit pyre – and in place of his body there lay a huge bouquet made up of Faervel's favourite woodland flowers along with two of his favoured long handled knives. They would be burned in place of Faervel's _hröa_ at the end of the ceremony when they committed Faervel fully into _Mandos'_ care.

These pyres made Thranduil sad given their very nature; but it was always sadder still to see an empty pyre such as this one knowing the anguish that such a thing would cause the family and friends of the deceased. Thranduil directed his eyes away from the sad sight and instead glanced over the huge throng that had gathered and took one last deep, calming breath before he begun to speak.

" _Eledhrim_ of the Woodland Realm, we have gathered here today to honour the memory of Lord Faervel Mallossonion of the Noble House of Arvellon who has tragically fallen in brave and loyal service to the Realm and the Royal Family."

Thranduil paused to get his suddenly scrambled thoughts in order (this was far more difficult than he had imagined) before he carried on, "Lord Faervel was known to a great many as a loyal comrade and trustworthy friend; what was less known of him was that he served the Royal House of Oropher in the capacity of Prince Legolas' bodyguard. It was in doing his duty to the Realm and out of his great love for Prince Legolas that Lord Faervel lost his life as he so bravely fought to bring our Prince home to us. I am deeply honoured to have known Lord Faervel and to have worked with him over the centuries. A better friend and bodyguard I could not have wished for my son."

Thranduil took another deep breath in order to keep his voice steady and prevent the strong emotions he felt from spilling over. "I am filled with the deepest of grief and sorrow that Lord Faervel has lost his life in fulfilment of his vows for no elven life should ever be ended; much less at such a young and tender age and I stand here before you all in deep gratitude, respect and love for Lord Faervel and all he has done to serve and bless my House. The Woodland Realm is darker now for the loss of Lord Faervel's kind smiles, witty humour and unending love and kindness for all his fellow _eledhrim."_

Thranduil held back a sigh and bowed his head, " _Nínion an gurth lîn Hir_ Faervel _."_

And the solemn words were true, Thranduil had wept for Faervel's death that very morning. The usually stoic blonde had just been overcome by a powerful sense of loss and no small amount of guilt – for perhaps if Thranduil had stuck to his original decision to refuse Faervel the position of Royal Bodyguard perhaps he would still be alive. So it was that Thranduil's notes for this very speech he now gave had ended up smudged, smeared and blurred beyond recognition drenched in the tears of a heartsick King.

" _Savo hîdh nen gurth Hir_ Faervel; you died well with honour and dignity and made the name of the House of Arvellon proud _. Guren nallatha nalú achenin le._ "

**~o~**

Aithel tried her best to supress her shaking as she bowed to King Thranduil before taking his place on the small grassy knoll. It was her turn now – to say a few words in memory and love of Faervel. And in all honesty she still could not believe that it was true – that Faervel was no more – that he would not come riding into the gates of the Stronghold, Legolas by his side as always ready to spin them a tall and fantastic tale of their time away. She could not believe he would never again march out with her into battle, could not phantom the thought that he would no longer be there with his soothing words and comforting hands to ease away the hurts of the troop as their chief and finest healer. It was just so very hard to believe, to grasp the concept that she would never see Faervel's beautiful face, his cheeky smile this side of the Seas ever again.

Aithel gave her head a little shake and blinked back her tears as she faced the crowd of mourners – she had to be strong. Usually this eulogy would be given by the Captain of the one deceased but in Legolas' continued absence (although praise all the _Valar_ they finally knew he was safe and found) Aithel as second-in-command would have to step up.

"My fellow _eledhrim_ I am beyond touched to see how many of you have come to celebrate and remember the life of my dear comrade," Aithel swung out her hand to include the rest of her white clad troop, " _our_ dear comrade. This turnout though does not truly surprise me – Faervel was a friend to everyone he met save the _yrch_ and _yngyl._ He always saw and believed the best of everyone and had only kind words for all. His kindness, cheery demeanour and joyful outlook on life will be a great loss not just to our troop but the Realm also. Faervel was an extraordinary _ellon_ , skilled warrior, trusted Royal Bodyguard and accomplished healer."

Aithel bit her lip then continued, "He had our backs in every battle, he made us smile and laugh even as he fed us terrible potions and healed painful wounds. Faervel never stopped smiling, never stopped giving – even on the toughest of missions or patrols you could count on Vel to see still see the bright side of life. He gave us all so much, shared with us continually his passion for life and now in his last act of love he has protected our Prince and Captain with his very last breath. He is most honoured and respected among us – we thank him and respect him for his services to our troop, our Prince and Captain and the Realm. _Gwannast vê_."

Aithel gestured to her white robes, "Yes, Faervel died well and we are beyond honoured to stand this day as his family, for he counted us as such and that is a privilege we will remember always. May _Mandos_ now grant you the eternal rest and peace your beautiful, caring _fëa_ so richly deserves Vel. _Hodo Vae_."

**~o~**

_Remembrance is a golden chain_

_Death tries to break, but all in vain._

_The years may wipe out many things_

_But some they wipe out never._

_Like memories of those happy times_

_When we were all together…_

Arasson let the words of the High Priestess of _Nienna_ flow right past him completely unheeded. The flame haired _ellon_ felt none of the peace and comfort the words were meant to bring to those who heard them.

The only thing he could feel was rage burning bright and hot within him. He was furious. Furious at having to attend the funeral of one of the _ellyn_ he held dearest to his heart. Furious at the fact that his Captain and Prince was too unwell and too far away to be able to attend the funeral of his best friend. Furious that he had to sit rather than stand as was right and proper due to the numerous injuries that had been inflicted upon him. Furious that the _edain_ who caused all this still lived and breathed in the Stronghold – awaiting trial and sentencing.

Arasson felt his rage spiral and had to forcefully clamp down on it in order not to disturb any of his troop mates with his killing intent. He instead smothered the rage within him until he was only silently seething rather than leaking murderous fury.

_To have, to love, and then to part_

_Is the greatest sorrow of one's heart_

_Yet in the rising of the sun, and in its going down_

_We remember him…_

It was the turn of the Priest of _Eru_ now and Arasson forced himself to listen more closely to the words, to try and take heart and comfort in them. But it was hard; he was so angry and he was so hurt – both physically and emotionally. The events of his troops ambush and his stint in the men's brutal and uncaring captivity had more than taken their toll. When he had finally awakened to hear news that Legolas had been captured and Faervel was missing along with the news that Hadril too had suffered through captivity as he had it had very nearly sent him over the edge. He'd spent his days in the infirmary praying to and pleading with all the _Valar_ – even _Aulë_ the Dwarven god – to spare his friends.

Yet it was not to be and the news of Faervel's death had hit Arasson hard setting his own recovery back. Faervel was a friend to all and Arasson was no exception; he and Faervel had come to be great friends during their time serving in Legolas' troop and Arasson could not stand the thought that his friends life was ended –most likely at the hands of the very same _edain_ who had attacked and captured him.

Deep grief quickly gave way to raw anger and Arasson bit his lip hard in effort to keep his emotions in check – just the very memories of all he, Faervel, Legolas and his troop had suffered was becoming overwhelming.

" _Savo hîdh nen gurth Hir_ Faervel." Arasson breathed out the prayer along with everyone else as they repeated after the _Tuluron_ of _Mandos_.

Arasson blinked then swiped at a few stray tears as his head hung in the final respectful silence before Faervel's pyre was lit. The pyre that was missing a body.

Rage again flared at the injustice and suffering brought upon his friend by the wretched humans that currently languished in the King's dungeons.

Arasson hardened his heart as the first flame was lit.

As soon as he was returned to his room in the healing wards he would finish his statement to be read and considered by the councillors in their sentencing of the _Môr-edain_. He'd been struggling to write it, finding it all too much and in the end the King himself had told him on one of his visits to Arasson that he needn't put himself to through the stress of it all, that they had more than enough evidence for convicting the Men. Arasson had been fully prepared to put the statement to the side and leave it be but now…now he would make sure it was written and make sure he did his part in seeing the _edain_ get the strongest possible punishments for their crimes.

Then and only then would the fury which threatened to rip him apart be sated.

_In the opening of buds, and in the warmth of summer_

_We remember him_

_In the rustling of leaves, and in the beauty of the autumn_

_We remember him_

_In the beginning of the year, and when it ends_

_We remember him…_

Arasson glowered into the flames that now consumed the pyre and lifted his voice to join in the song.

**~o~**

Aeglosson paced the length of Thranduil's study as he waited with the rest of his troop for the King. Unlike them he just could not keep still; he was beyond anxious to find out why his troop had been summoned so quickly after Faervel's funeral and he was completely on edge.

Aeglosson was still reeling from the shock of the death of one best friend and the news that the other had been found. The morning's funeral had done nothing to soothe his emotions which all felt raw and far too many for any one elf to contain. And now he was nervously treading a rut into Thranduil's floor as he waited to see if there would be any more fell news to befall him. Or perhaps it would be good news this time round? After all the news of Legolas being found in Imladris hadn't been bad…

Aeglosson sighed frustrated and paced even more furiously as he willed the King to show some haste and put him out of his misery.

Tauriel watched as her usually unflappable second-in-command paced furiously from one end of the study to the other and held back a sigh. She sympathised very much with Aeglosson, after all Faervel had been her best friend too as was Legolas. This whole ordeal had really taken its toll on her especially as they had not been allowed to even help when the searches for her friends had still been ongoing. Faervel's death had been a terrible, dreadful blow even as the news that Legolas had been found had been utterly fantastic. The announcements had pulled her emotions in completely different directions and she felt as though they might snap and break at any moment from being tugged from one extreme to the other.

In the end Tauriel had settled for simply forcing down all her emotions as deep as they would go so she felt nothing at all. It was not a healthy approach – she was well aware – but at least it kept her calm and able to function properly. Unlike poor Aeglosson who seemed to be getting closer and closer to having a breakdown with every agitated step he took.

The soft sound of brisk elven footsteps rapidly approaching the King's study was just about discernible over the noise of Aeglosson's pacing and the door to the study was opened to reveal King Thranduil, Lord Arahaelon and Thanniel. Aeglosson stopped in his tracks swinging round to face the room's newest occupants and to bow to the King and his _Daer-adar_ along with the rest of his troop _._

Thranduil flapped a hand at them, " _Sîdh_ , you can be at ease and thank you all for coming at such short notice. I shan't keep you overlong as I myself have other pressing things to see to and I am sure you all want to attend Lord Faervel's remembrance feast."

Thranduil straightened his black veil (he was still garbed in funeral wear as the rest of them) and let out a huffed breath, "In light of Lord Faervel's untimely death his _Naneth_ Lady Ídhes has decided to sail and be with and await her family in _Aman_. She also wishes to stop and pay final homage to her son in her homeland of Imladris where Lord Faervel's _hröa_ currently awaits cremation. Therefore she will need an escort and I have chosen your troop to do the honour."

Here Thranduil paused to give both Tauriel and Aeglosson a casual yet significant look. He had not been blind to their suffering and anguish at being forbidden to join the search parties that had gone out after their friends. This was his way of making it up to them; this way they too would get to pay their final respects to Faervel when he was cremated in Imladris and they would also get to visit with Legolas. It was the best he could do and judging from the looks both of them threw him they appreciated the gesture.

"Thanniel here will be accompanying Lady Ídhes on her last journey and you will plot your route with her aid. Lady Ídhes expects to be ready to leave within the next ten days so you have until then to make your preparations. I expect you to take into consideration the needs of the two _ellith_ you will be escorting and plan your route and pace accordingly. Lord Arahaelon will sign off on your plans in my absence and will offer any advice and amendments as he feels necessary."

"In…in your absence _Aran-nin_?" Tauriel piped up at the statement that had caught the attention of her troop.

"Yes in my absence _Hest_ Tauriel, I leave for Imladris today – within the next hour if I can at all help it. Though the Prince is found he is not well. I go to lend my son what aid I can. _Riel_ Rithel will reign as Regent in my absence but Lord Arahaelon will be overseeing the planning of this trip."

Thranduil gave them a small grim smile, "I am trusting you all with Lady Ídhes' final trip on _Arda_. I am counting on you all to make it as easy for her as possible and to add nothing to her grief. Am I understood?"

"Yes _Aran-nin_ ," was chorused by all.

"We shall not let you down _Aran-nin_ ," Aeglosson gave a bow of his head to Thranduil overwhelmed with gratitude that the King had granted him and Tauriel such an opportunity. He would do his best to see to it that Lady Ídhes, who had been so much like a second _Naneth_ to him all these centuries would have the smoothest trip possible.

"Good," the King gave a small satisfied nod of his head. "Then I shall leave you as I must get on if I am to depart on time as intended. Plan well, be safe and _hortho le huil vaer_."

**~o~**

"Elf kind you may be but you will not last much longer without sustenance _Ernil_. Now please, I must ask you to at least attempt it. Tis only a little light vegetable broth; it will be gentle on your stomach and do you the world of good."

"But I'm not at all hungry," Legolas griped and Elrond silently prayed for _Elbereth_ to lend him strength as he fought back a sigh.

Legolas had awoken from Elrohir's enforced sleep in a grim mood – completely listless and uninterested in anything. He let himself be checked over, his wounds dressed and had even taken some more medication and painkillers. However when Elrond had presented the broth the Prince had stubbornly refused to so much as look at it and they'd been in a stalemate for the past fifteen minutes.

Elrond was sorely tempted to rouse Elrohir to see if he could perhaps tempt the Prince into having at least half of the small cup-full of broth – for he was sure Legolas favoured Elrohir above them all. Yet he refrained. Elrohir was in bed completely and utterly exhausted and Elrond would be seeing to it personally that his younger son would not be leaving his bed for a while.

The Peredhil Lord frowned ever so slightly as he thought back upon his return the previous night to check in on the Prince and his son. He'd found them both completely insensate – Elrohir from exhaustion and the Prince from the sleep Elrohir had forced him into.

Once Elrohir had awakened earlier that morning Elrond had gotten the whole tale out of him and he had not been best pleased. No matter how upset their blonde charge had gotten Elrohir really should not have risked both himself and Legolas by forcing the Prince's _fëa_ into sleep. And such a deep sleep it was too – Legolas had lain as still as the dead not moving and looking so completely corpse like that Elrond had found himself checking for a pulse more than once as the Prince slept on oblivious for just over twenty hours straight.

Elrond had been beyond relieved when the Prince's baby blue eyes had finally fluttered open and focussed. Now though Elrond felt the beginnings of exasperation creep upon him as Legolas continued to refuse to eat.

"I understand you may not feel hungry but your body does need sustenance _Ernil-nin_ ; thus far it has been running on water and medication and while those have their uses your _hröa_ will require more than that if you are to make a full recovery." Elrond sighed then arched an eyebrow at the young blonde before him, "Is it the broth you object to? I could have something else brought up for you – perhaps a light porridge or some scrambled eggs… dry toast maybe?"

Legolas blanched, he felt truly dreadful in spite of all the painkillers he'd taken. Though his wounds did not currently pain him his head spun a most disconcerting and sickening manner – hence why he lay as still as possible and tried his best not to move at all if he could help it. Eating anything right now did not seem a great idea to Legolas.

"Tis not the broth _Hir-nin,_ I truly don't think I could manage anything at all just now. I feel quite nauseous as is – there is no need to further provoke my stomach."

"The longer you put this off the worse it will be when you do finally chose to eat Princeling. You may feel a bit sick or queasy now but it will pass and your body will be most glad of the nourishment. You do want to get well, leave these halls and return to your Wood do you not?"

Legolas said nothing and just kept focussed on lying completely still; all he wanted right now was to be left alone with his thoughts. Yet he knew from personal experience from his numerous stays in the healing halls back home that he'd not get his wish until he at least humoured Lord Elrond a little. Healers always fretted so when you said you were not hungry and they were even worse when you didn't eat.

Legolas heaved a great sigh; he'd try a bit of the blasted soup, hope he could keep it down and then hopefully the _Peredhil_ healer would stop nagging at him and leave him to his brooding in silence and peace.

"As you wish it _Hir-nin,_ I shall have some of your broth then perhaps I could have some time to myself?"

Elrond smiled, "Of course _Ernil-nin_ I don't see why not. You've already had all your medicines and your wounds tended to – once you eat a sufficient amount I shall cease my nagging and leave you to your own devices for a while."

Legolas coloured slightly at the way the _Peredhil_ Lord saw through him so easily, "I…I did not mean to infer…that is…I did not mean to suggest that you were nagging me _Hir_ Elrond. It's just I…uh I…"

Elrond waved a hand at the young Prince a smirk firmly upon his face, "Worry not, you have not offended me _Ernil-nin_. I just so happen to have experience with two injury prone sons who are often desperate for me to cease my mothering and nagging of them." Elrond gave Legolas a full blown smile, "Of course they have never been quite so polite with their demands to be left alone as you have."

Legolas ducked his head still somewhat embarrassed, "I am sorry _Hir-nin_ , I know you've done nothing but help me but I just…I just…my thoughts are…I need…" Legolas struggled for the right words but Elrond waved him off.

"I understand – you needn't explain any further to me. Simply have some of this and I will leave you until the time for your next doses of medicine. Now let me help you up."

Legolas grimaced and firmly shut his eyes in a valiant but failed effort to stave off the roll of nausea that swept over him as Elrond helped him into a sitting position with the aid of a great many pillows. He didn't dare open his eyes until the terrible sick feeling receded to a somewhat manageable level.

Elrond watched worriedly as Legolas blanched to an even more deathly looking white than he already was, eyes screwed shut with his too thin hands in a death clutch at the sheets. Elrond was about to enquire if the Prince required yet more painkillers but then Legolas slowly peeled his eyes back open and Elrond took that as his cue to approach with the broth.

Legolas looked at the small earthenware cup that had been placed on a tray in his lap warily and pressed his good hand to his abdomen. The smell alone threatened to turn his stomach and Legolas again began to make protesting noises.

The blonde wrinkled his nose, "I'm sorry _Hir-nin_ but I really don't think I'll be able to manage this broth after all." Legolas pressed his hand harder to his stomach as it made a rather disconcerting flip, "The very smell threatens to make me throw up."

"After such a long period without eating anything this queasiness is normal. Try breathing through your mouth and just take very tiny sips of the broth. Tis not strong I promise you – I have had it made especially mild so that it doesn't overwhelm your sense of taste nor sit too heavily on your stomach. Its warmth should be soothing to your throat and as I've said before the nutrients will greatly aide in healing your wounds and your overall recovery."

Elrond held out the spoon to the reluctant Prince, "Please _Ernil-nin_ I'd feel so much better if you would have even a quarter of the broth."

Legolas sighed deeply, resigned and took the proffered spoon. Careful not to inhale any more of the smell he took a tentative, tiny sip of the soup. It had a very pleasant savoury taste to it which and was indeed mild and light as promised. Encouraged Legolas took another bigger sip and another. All of a sudden his body chose to remind him of just how frightfully hungry he really was, his stomach rumbled embarrassingly loudly and Legolas found himself taking the entire mug to his lips and simply drinking it down rather than the slow sipping he'd been doing.

"Nay _Ernil-nin,"_ Elrond was quick to intervene and move the cup from Legolas's lips back down to the tray. "You must take your time with this Princeling – your stomach will not be used to being so full. You will give yourself a terrible stomach ache if you do not just sip slowly in small amounts."

And indeed Legolas already felt regretful of his greedy gulping as his stomach began to churn nauseatingly.

The Prince pushed the mug further away from him on the tray, "I think that is all I'll be able to manage today _Hir-nin_. I'm afraid my nausea returns."

Elrond removed the tray and the mug which was now half empty. "That is fine, you've drank a good amount though far too fast."

Elrond threw open the windows of the private healing room before making up a cool compress for Legolas' forehead, an action which caused the Prince to shoot Elrond a quizzical look.

"Has my fever returned _Hir_ Elrond?"

"Nay, a cool compress can sometimes help with nausea as well fresh air," Elrond gestured to the open windows. "I should also like you to stay sat up for now as that will put less pressure on your stomach and hopefully prevent any cramps or further queasiness."

Legolas let his head fall back into the pillow stack behind him and focused on keeping his breathing deep and steady. The dizzying sickness he felt showed no signs of lessening and in fact seemed to be getting worse. Added to that his stomach had now started to cramp and spasm. Legolas breathed deep and pressed hard on his abdomen.

"Please don't press so _Ernil-nin_ that will only put more pressure on your stomach and cause it to cramp and hurt you more."

Legolas' breathing was coming in small harsh pants now despite his efforts to control it, "…it hurts…"

"I know and I'm so sorry _Ernil_ , for you are at the worst part of the recovery process right now. Everything is still raw and painful and unfortunately that does mean a good deal of discomfort and pain for you now but I promise you it shan't last overlong."

Elrond went to stroke the blonde hair in comfort before remembering how wary Legolas still was of uninvited and unnecessary touch and dropped his hand unwilling to distress the Prince any further. "I will do my best to ease you through these few rough days _Ernil_ – please trust me – you will get through this. You are not alone, you have our support and you are so much stronger than you think."

Legolas would have snorted had he the strength – he did not feel strong at all. His stomach was now furiously roiling, clenching in the most painful way and he gasped aloud before he bit down hard on his lip to stem any more humiliating noises from coming forth. No he did not feel strong at all.

He pressed his hand all the harder to his abdomen as the terrible cramping sensation forced him to double over in pain. He could feel the newly replaced stitches in his shoulder pull and tug threateningly and most uncomfortably but he cared not as the cramping of his stomach was far more severe a pain.

Another sharp spasm saw Legolas cry out and this time Elrond acted unable to watch the Prince suffer so and not give any comfort at all. He gently wrapped one arm around Legolas slowly pulling him back upright lest he rip his stitches once more whilst he stroked the Prince's hair with the other in a soothing gesture. The blonde tensed under his arms for a long moment before another painful seizure gripped him and he collapsed weakly into Elrond's arms giving in to the comfort.

"Try to breathe, just try to breathe _Ernil-nin_. Deeply, in through your nose and slowly out through your mouth. Focus on that, focus on your breathing – it will help I promise. Come now…deeply in….and now out. Again. Deeply in through your nose…and out through your mouth."

Legolas tried his best to focus on Elrond's words and mimic the breathing pattern the older ellon instructed. It took quite some doing but after a few long minutes Legolas had got his breathing back under control from the small harsh pants he had been taking to the deep long breaths the _Peredhil_ Lord had instructed and he realised that the cramps had slowly eased in their intensity.

Elrond's arm was still about him as he continued to encourage Legolas in his breathing as his other hand smoothed back Legolas' hair in a soothing and warm gesture that Legolas let himself enjoy for a few minutes longer; until the pain from his stomach cramps had ceased altogether.

Then once certain that his traitorous stomach was done with tormenting him he pulled sharply back out of Elrond's grasp and into the firm pillows behind him. The sudden jolt of movement saw pain shoot through Legolas, particularly his shoulder, yet he carefully schooled his face into impassivity before he gave a small, tired smile to the older _ellon_.

"I have drank half the broth."

Elrond smiled, "So you have _Ernil_ , I shall keep my half of the bargain and leave you to your thoughts in peace worry not – I just want to make sure you suffer no more cramping before I leave. I would have you be comfortable."

"I am _Hir-nin_ – _hannon-le_. You needn't worry on that account – the cramps have faded." Legolas threw Elrond the brightest smile he could manage and hoped he was convincing.

He really wanted to be alone with his thoughts now; for Elrond's coddling of him just then had raised to the surface several emotions and thoughts he had been ruthlessly suppressing ever since this whole ordeal had begun. He'd pushed them deep down in order to keep himself strong in the face of his tormentors and in order to survive the horrid circumstances he'd found himself in but now…

Now the supressed thoughts and emotions were fighting their way to the very forefront of his mind.

Elrond's soothing low voice and gentle petting of his hair had reminded him rather uncomfortably of Thanniel and the Prince had to blink hard a few times to get rid of the unexpected moisture that gathered in his eyes at the thought of his beloved former nanny.

He forced another smile, "Truly I am well _Hir_ Elrond."

Elrond looked Legolas over once more and though he was a lot paler than he had been before it was clear the blonde was no longer wracked with pain. Elrond smiled, "Then I shall leave you in peace. Do try to not to brood over much – it will not help. Instead try for some sleep if you can – your _hröa_ still needs the rest."

"I shall try."

Elrond nodded satisfied, "Very well, I'll go now. I'll be back in an hour or so for your next dose of medicines."

Legolas gave an absent nod.

Elrond smiled and gave Legolas another fond stroke of his hair as he removed several pillows so the Prince could lay back more comfortably and Legolas had to fight off the urge to lean into the caring touch.

The caring touch that reminded him of all the times Thanniel had done the same – gently smoothing his hair – whenever he lay injured, hurt or poisoned in the healing halls back home. He missed Thanniel; he missed her so very much, had been so looking forward to seeing her after what had been a longer than planned and very difficult Southern patrol. She would have had a slice of his favourite treat – blueberry pie – waiting warm and ready for him. His favourite part of her always exuberant welcomes.

Legolas sighed, he really did miss Thanniel. She had never failed to see him home from a patrol or mission, treat in hand and warm smile on her face. She'd accompany him to his chambers shooting off questions at him until she was satisfied that he'd returned (relatively) unharmed. They would chat and gossip about the goings-on in the palace that he'd missed in his absence as Thanniel helped him out of his often wrecked armour. An act which never failed to get her muttering under her breath about his foolish recklessness.

Legolas would smirk all through Thanniel's rant before assuring her of his very-much-alive-and-well-presence with a kiss of thanks to her cheek. She'd swat at him and extract a promise that he would not be late for the evening meal later on. A promise that he almost always invariably broke but she never held it against him.

Legolas felt a tear sip down his cheek as his thoughts of Thanniel carried him straight to thoughts of his _Adar_. And here he felt conflicted for Legolas both missed his _Adar_ and was angry at him. Angry at the pledge his _Adar_ had allowed Faervel to take, angry that his _Adar_ felt the need to keep secrets from him and angry that his _Adar_ even thought he needed a bodyguard in the first place.

Legolas breathed out slowly, heavily and miserably – he hated being at odds with his _Adar_ even in his thoughts. He knew how many viewed his Father. Cold, indifferent and perpetually angry; a prickly _ellon_ that held all at arm's length. Yet Legolas knew the truth; knew how his _Adar_ would always show up once Legolas had settled himself comfortably in the hot bath Thanniel had drawn him as he happily munched on his pie. His _Adar_ would always shake his head, tut and lecture on how inappropriate it was to eat in the bath. The lecture never held any true sternness however as evinced by the indulgent look and gentle smile that would play over his _Adar's_ face – happy to see Legolas home and hale.

Depending on his schedule and the demands his Kingship placed on him his _Adar_ would kiss his brow and leave with a promise to see him at the evening meal. If time was kinder that day his _Adar_ would remove his regal outer robes, roll up his sleeves and wash Legolas' oft bedraggled and blood streaked hair for him. Twas an act that always made Legolas feel safe, relaxed and loved.

That was who his _Adar_ really was; and Legolas felt his heart sink as he imagined just how worried his Father would have been at his continued non-appearance. How worried he likely still was – even if he had received Elladan's missive by now. For that was another little fact that remained largely unknown – the famed and feared King Thranduil was a massive worrier.

Legolas swiped at his tears – a futile act for more fell to replace them just as quickly – as he imagined the turmoil both his _Adar_ and Thanniel would have gone through.

And then of course there was Rithel. His loving if sometimes over bearing big sister who he had not seen even before he'd left for his ill-fated patrol. For Rithel had left on a diplomatic horse buying mission – being the good Royal that Legolas could never have the patience to be – a month before he'd even set out.

It had been so long since he had seen her, so long since he had listened to her inane chatter about court politics and palace gossip, so long since they'd snuck down to raid the palace kitchens together at some ungodly hour. So long since he'd had to fend off her attempts at braiding his hair into some awful and distinctly feminine style; so long since she'd dragged him all round the shopping district in search of the 'perfect' dress and far too long since he'd had to endure her fussing and mothering and coddling him to death. He missed his _gwathel_.

Legolas gave into a small sob - he missed his family. Desperately. He was alone in a foreign land with his dead best friend and though Legolas felt…nay _knew_ he did not deserve it all he wanted right now was the comfort, safety and love of his family.

Legolas failed to hold back another louder sob as he looked down at his injured body. It would be a good long while before he got to see any of them again and the thought made rage flare in Legolas as he thought about what had happened to him and his troop. In fact he wasn't even sure as to what had been the outcome of their skirmish against the Men. He remembered falling, painfully hitting branch after branch then…nothing. Nothing until he had woken up trussed up like a sack of wheat upon the back of a horse and then…

Legolas' rage dried up and died in an instant as he thought of his captors and in particular his young supposedly _Dunedain_ tormentor. Legolas stared ahead unseeingly as small flashbacks of the torture he'd suffered at the hands of the young _edain_ with the cruel grey eyes and smart mouth that spoke Sindarin as though he'd been born to it flashed through his mind. Much to Legolas' shame fear replaced the rage that had previously filled him as he remembered being bound, gagged and drugged; the sensation of simulated drowning, having his lips cut to shreds and a tooth forcibly and brutally extracted. And all that had been only the beginning of what he'd had to endure since being taken captive from his beloved Wood.

Memory after memory washed over Legolas - being tied to the young tree as it was chopped and stabbed to bits had been beyond awful and then of course there had been the disastrous battle with the orcs that had seen him freed from his Mannish captors but forced to run for his life from the _yrch_. All before he'd been shot. Shot with a large, cruel cross bow bolt – Legolas's let his good hand drift up to lightly touch his bandaged shoulder and he shuddered. He'd never felt such searing pain in all his long life and he could only hope that he'd not be crippled by the injury that was still the cause of such concern for both Elrohir and Lord Elrond. The thought of never being able to raise his bow or fight to defend his home again…

Home – that was what all he wanted right now.

Legolas took in a great big shuddering breath between the sobs that wracked him; he wanted his home and all the people and comforts and safety that the Wood brought him. He wanted to leave Imladris, be with his family and troop again and pretend that none of this had ever, ever happened.

Yet how could he pretend? How could he, when from here on in he would never hear Faervel's gentle voice raised in song or his cheery laughter or be on the end of his irritating mothering. The ambush had changed his life – irrevocably so and no matter how much Legolas might wish it or pretend things would never again be the same. Never. There was no escaping that fact.

Alone under the weight of such a crushing, devastating realisation Legolas cried and cried and cried.

**~o~**

Thranduil pulled at his shirt's collar – it had been a good long while since he'd worn the standard uniform of his troops and the high collar was bothering him somewhat. Still whether he was comfortable or not needs must; he wanted no unnecessary attention drawn to him during this trip and his own armour _was_ rather flashy.

Thranduil looked at the courtyard around him from his high perch on Diomedes and watched as Aglardaer and Arahaelon had some hushed last minute conversation whilst the rest of his Elite ran to and fro checking this, that and the other. Thranduil took a deep steadying breath – he wanted to be off and on the way already. Yet he was instead forced to wait until the rest of his travelling companions had gotten themselves together and ready to go. It was rapidly growing maddening. He'd told them all since the night before to be ready to leave with all haste – had they not listened to him at all?

A calm voice interrupted his irritated thoughts.

"They will be ready soon _Aran-nin_ – worry not. I know you are impatient to get to the Prince but they are only being sure that we can do so with minimal problems along the way."

Thranduil let out a long deep sigh as he swivelled to look at his secretary, "I know all that Bôr, but how can _you_ be ready at the appointed time yet _they_ cannot?"

"Perhaps I am simply the most efficient one in your employ _Aran-nin_ ," a smirk accompanied Bôr's light hearted remark.

Thranduil couldn't help but grin at his red haired secretary and Bôr smiled back happy to have interrupted the foul mood that the King had been working himself into.

"But truly _Aran-nin_ do not be too harsh with them – parchment, quills and ink are my only burdens – tis easy enough for me to be packed and ready to go at a moment's notice. Theirs," Bôr gestured towards Thranduil's Elite, "is a more difficult undertaking. For they are tasked with the protection of the King of the Woodland Realm –you can forgive them for checking and double checking all is well before we leave. Your protection on this trip is paramount."

The King grunted in annoyance, "You do have a point, yet I still wish they wouldn't take so bloody long about it and just hurry up." Thranduil jabbed a finger in the direction of his Regent and Crown Commander, "I mean honestly what are those two wittering on about now? I tell you I am glad you have decided to accompany me on this trip Bôr – I should lose my sanity and end up kin-slaying them all were you not here."

Bôr laughed, "I'm sure you would do no such thing _Aran-nin_."

Thranduil's eyes gleamed wickedly, "I would and may yet still do so if we are not out of this courtyard in the next ten minutes." The blonde sighed, "Truly Bôr your calming influence will well be needed long before this trip is over with."

Bôr smiled somewhat timidly at the praise, "I am glad you feel the need for my presence – tis truly flattering. Thought I still cannot help but think I will be more hindrance than use – I am no warrior."

"You are a warrior no longer tis true but you were as skilled at swordplay as you are now with wordplay. Do not doubt your abilities Bôr – once a warrior of the realm, always a warrior of the realm. Should you have need for them you will find your skills have not deserted you. But do not worry overmuch – with any luck and the grace of the _Valar_ you will not have to lift your sword in anger and play the warrior but simply remain my unflappable, ever reliable secretary."

Bôr smiled again at his King's kind words and hoped he was right. For Bôr hadn't wanted to go on this trip – he tended to avoid travel as much as Thranduil usually did. He especially hadn't wanted to go when he heard they'd be crossing the treacherous Misty Mountains as a part of their journey. He'd been all set to refuse his King or offer to get his assistant who he sent on all diplomatic trips in his place to accompany Thranduil instead – he'd seen no real need for him to be included on this trip.

Yet once the King had explained how he did not want to have to act as a foreign dignitary on this trip, how he wanted only to be an _Adar_ and nothing more, spending all his time with the ailing Prince and how he wanted Bôr to deal with all the diplomacies and politics in his stead then Bôr could not refuse. He'd noticed his distinct lack of paperwork due to Thranduil's inability to rest his mind at night; he had seen how the capture of the Prince had torn and eaten away at his King. This trip was important to Thranduil and Bôr was willing to do anything he could to aide his Liege.

A loud metallic clattering shook Bôr from his thoughts and he swivelled round upon his horse to look even as Thranduil began to bellow in earnest at his bodyguards.

Bôr leap from his horse with a small, concealed chuckle and down to the aid of the unfortunate Arthon lest his King really lose his temper and say or do something regrettable.

**~o~**

Wind whipped his loosely braided hair back and away from Thranduil's face as they tore down the Elf Path full speed towards the Forest Gate. The King could not help but feel relief that he was finally on the way to see his son, his _Lasseg_.

The very thought spurred him on and Thranduil leaned down low against the back of Diomedes as he urged the horse even faster.

Just hold on _ion-nin_ , Thranduil thought, just hold on – _Adar_ will be with you soon.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maethron / Maethyr – Warrior / (plural) Warriors
> 
> Eledhrim – Elves
> 
> Ellon/Ellyn – Male Elf/Elves
> 
> Naneth - Mother
> 
> Nestryn – (plural) Healers
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Hröa – Body (Quenya)
> 
> Nínion an gurth lîn Hir Faervel – I weep for your death Lord Faervel.
> 
> Savo hîdh nen gurth – Have peace in death
> 
> Guren nallatha nalú achenin le – My heart shall weep until I see thee again
> 
> Yrch – (Plural of Orch) – Sindarin for Orcs
> 
> Yngyl – (Plural of Ungol) Spiders
> 
> Gwannast vê – He died well
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Hodo Vae – Rest Well
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Tuluron – Assistant
> 
> Môr-edain – Dark (Evil) Men
> 
> Daer-Adar - Grandfather
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Ellith – Female Elves
> 
> Aran-nin - My King
> 
> Hest – Captain
> 
> Riel – Princess
> 
> Hortho le huil vaer – May useful winds speed you on
> 
> Ernil / Ernil-nin – Prince / My Prince
> 
> Peredhil – Half Elven
> 
> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Gwathel – Sister
> 
> Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas
> 
> Horses:
> 
> Rafn – Faervel's horse – (Sindarin) Winged
> 
> Diomedes – Thranduil's horse – (Greek) Cunning Warrior
> 
> A/N: So hope you enjoyed the double post - transitional chapters here – the next will see the long awaited reunion between Adar and ion. Thank you all for reading and I'll try not to have such long pauses between future updates. KimicT


	35. Chapter 35

Morning in the Woodland Realm dawned clear and bright – another perfect spring day that saw Rithel in her  _Adar's_  study as she stared out the window in the direction of the Forest Gate.

"They will have passed beyond the borders by now," Rithel sighed wistfully.

"Perhaps, or perhaps not. That depends on whether Crown Commander Aglardaer made them stop for the night," Arahaelon joined the Princess at the large bay window.

"Surely  _Adar_ would not have permitted a stop so soon. You know how desperate he is to arrive at  _Lasseg's_  side."

Arahaelon gave an acknowledging tilt of his head, "That is true yet a worried Aglardaer can be just as irritatingly stubborn as your  _Adar._  Anyway that is neither here nor there – they are well on their way now and there is naught we can do for them save the tasks with which your  _Adar_  has entrusted us in his absence."

Rithel nodded at the reminder of why she was in her  _Adar's_  study in the first place – she was Regent and as such it was her responsibility to oversee the sentencing of their Mannish prisoners.

She sighed, "Can you not deal with the rest of this trial and sentencing Lord Arahaelon? You have been in attendance throughout and have heard all the arguments for and against. I only attended the first day of the trial. I am woefully in the dark."

Arahaelon gave a small smile, "Nay I cannot  _Riel-nin_ ; these are serious crimes and capital punishment may well be needed – only a Royal can pass such a sentence." The silver haired  _ellon_  waved a hand to stall Rithel's protests, "And I am well aware you are not up to date on what has taken place with the trial – that is why I called you in to this breakfast meeting."

Rithel looked over at the table that had been generously laid for them; warm freshly baked bread with golden honey, thick hand cut slices of bacon and a fresh pot of camomile tea lay in wait.

Arahaelon moved toward the table and beckoned Rithel to do the same. "Come let us eat whilst it is still hot and I will go over with you everything you need to know. By the time the council reconvenes you will be fully up to speed."

Rithel almost groaned aloud at the reminder of the upcoming council session, "Think you that the council will reach a decision on the sentencing today? We did tell the  _egyl edain_  that we would reach our verdict within two days and today is the second day."

Arahaelon sat and spread a silken serviette across his lap and gave a careless shrug of his broad shoulders, "Who cares? We are not beholden to them. If we do not reach a decision today, tomorrow or even next week it matters not. They are the ones in the wrong here and they will simply have to learn to wait patiently."

"I know, but I would be just to them and not have them waiting blindly in the dark." Rithel took up her place at the table.

"Of course we would make the prisoners aware of any delay in their sentencing – I only meant we needn't rush things simply to suit them."

Rithel smiled, "I doubt we could rush the council into anything even if we wanted to."

Arahaelon laughed, "Indeed – speeding the council into a decision is a feat that to date not even your  _Adar_  has managed, formidable though he is. Come now," Arahaelon spread a sheaf of papers in front of them careful to keep them away from the food. "Let us begin with a reminder of the charges the  _edain_  have been convicted of."

**~o~**

"…and so we are all agreed as one with the sentencing we have passed, correct?" The silver haired Princess looked round the council chambers at her fellows who all solemnly nodded.

"We are in agreement."

"Good," Rithel nodded her head in satisfaction before she looked over to the council secretary. "Prepare a missive for the King telling him of the decision we have made. Send it by our swiftest carrier hawk so it will already be there, ready for the King's perusal and approval once he arrives in Imladris."

"Of course  _Riel-nin_ I will draft it now – however, how shall I address it? I understood that the King wanted no great fanfare and wished to travel as plainly as possible. Yet if I send a missive to Imladris addressed to the 'King of the Woodland Realm' they will send a huge party out to escort him as is proper and expected…and I fear that would very much displease the King."

Rithel smiled at the image, "Yes indeed it would. Address the missive simply to the 'Captain of the Woodland Consort' – have it ringed in red – the traditional marking that signals a missive requiring immediate attention and use both Lord Arahaelon's seal and my own upon it. That will be enough to signify who the missive is intended for."

"Yes  _Riel-nin_ ," the secretary bowed and with a flick of her wrist Rithel dismissed him to do as she had bid.

Rithel watched him go for a moment before she turned to the rest of the council, "Will one of you organise a page to go down to the dungeons and relay to our prisoners that their day of sentencing has been delayed a further two weeks? That will give the King time enough to arrive in Imladris, review our decision and send back his reply. Once we receive the King's approval we will let the  _edain_  know of our decision."

Rithel gave a small, weary sigh, "I also need another of you to organise the missives to the King of Dale and the Chief of the Woodsmen. They need to be informed of our intentions. The rest of you are free to go – the council is hereby dismissed."

Two council members volunteered to do the Princess' bidding and set off before the rest of the council neatly filed out of the chambers.

Rithel stared after them blankly; she felt as though there were something else she was supposed to do – something her  _Adar_  had asked her to see to or reply to yet in all the rush of him leaving and then the heavy discussions she'd been enveloped in all morning she simply could not remember. With a mental shrug the Princess cast the worry from her mind – if it was truly important it would come back to her or Lord Arahaelon would remind her.

And with that Rithel stood and turned her back to the table and its sheaf of papers (including her now forgotten half formed reply to Elrond's missive) as she made her way over to the windows and contemplated the day's council session and the surprisingly quick decision they had come to.

Capital punishment. The death penalty. That was what they had agreed that all but one of the  _edain_  deserved. And that one man – Blacwin he was called – was to be spared solely because of her  _Adar's_  written instructions that the man be shown some leniency due to his honesty and the fact he had shown remorse during the trail. Blacwin would instead be sentenced to live out the rest of his able bodied life in the grimmest Mannish prison Dale could offer.

Rithel steepled her fingers and rested her chin upon them as she thought, really thought, about the fates she had condemned the rest of the Men to. Despite all the baying for blood the council had been doing Rithel could have spared them – she alone as Royalty could give the command to sentence another to death. It was a command that she was sure not even her  _Adar_ nor her _Daer-Adar_  had ever had to pass and as such she had deliberated and debated with herself long and hard before issuing the command.

Rithel looked out at the deepening, dusky pink sky. She had truly taken her time to come into agreement with the council. She had wanted to be as just and as fair as she could – it was what was expected of monarchy – to be able to cast aside even personal feelings and cut through and judge the heart of a matter. A difficult task in this instance given her personal ties to the case; but in the end Rithel felt she had been able to cast aside her wishes for revenge and judge fairly. She knew that justice would be served with her command; in this case the use of capital punishment was right, it was fair and it was just.

The  _edain_ who had trespassed upon her realm had inflicted so much hurt to her people, people under the Realm's protection and even to the Royal House itself. All that bloodshed and callous disregard for life could not be tolerated. The Woodland Realm could not afford to show leniency and mercy to those who had intended from the outset to cause it great harm and who had yet to show any remorse for their actions. The Woodland Realm had to show itself strong in such matters lest any further evil doers think it a weak place on which to prey.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth and a life for a life.

**~o~**

Blacwin fiddled with his silver manacles as he stared blankly out of his cell. He felt restless and somewhat nervous. The elves hadn't come for them yet; Blacwin peered up to the skylight above – he could see that dusk had taken hold – yet still no sign of the elves.

They had said they would deliberate and sentence them within two days and today was the second day. Blacwin had spent it bracing himself constantly, just waiting for the elves to bring him out and proclaim his doom and what he was sure would be his death. Yet the day had passed by the same as every other day he had spent here. Could it be that he was to be granted a reprieve? One more day of life?

That train of thought was swiftly cut-off as a young, well dressed page swept down the dungeon stairs and went over to speak with the head guard. Blacwin tensed and held his breath as he watched the two elves converse – how he wished he could understand their musical sounding language.

The rest of his men (though they no longer considered themselves as such) were also nervously pressed against the bars of their respective cells as they all waited with baited breath for the outcome of the elven conversation.

After only another minute or two the page nodded, bowed to the head guard and dashed back up the stairs from whence he came.

The strapping head guard smirked down at them all, "Relax  _edain_. Your worthless lives have been spared another few days. You'll not be sentenced today." The guard smiled nastily, "It will be another two weeks before the council inform you just how they plan to make you regret ever setting foot in our forest."

The rest of the men slumped at that in clear relief that they would not be forced to face the wrath of the elves that day yet Blacwin felt even more restless. He would have another two weeks in the company of men and elves who hated him and his own morbid, over active imagination.

The man sank down onto his cot. He could only hope his sanity would survive the wait.

**~o~**

"Are you sure you can manage no more – not even another mouthful?"

"I am certain Elrohir. I know you would like me to eat a bit more but I simply cannot – my stomach already threatens to rebel against the little I  _have_  eaten."

Elrond watched with a carefully blank face as his son gave in and removed the tray with its small bowl of broth from Legolas' lap and carried it from the room. The Prince had had very little sustenance this day – only managing a couple mouthfuls of the very lightest broth and sips of water. The honeyed porridge they had brought for his breakfast had been flatly refused and the blonde had slept through lunch. Elrond had been hopeful of getting the entire small bowl of broth down his too thin charge yet it was not to be.

The  _Peredhil_  Lord sighed and walked over to Legolas' bedside. "Your lack of appetite is rather worrisome  _Ernil_  – is there nothing we can tempt you with? Even if it is a dish from the Wood – I'm sure our chefs would be able to rustle up something."

"There is nothing wrong with your food  _Hir-nin_  please do not be offended – I simply feel too sick to eat."

Elrond's brow furrowed at that and he studied the young blonde before him. The Prince looked gaunt and exhausted with deep, dark rings beneath his eyes.

Elrond sighed again and shook his head, "Well then Princeling if you cannot eat then please do try to sleep. Perhaps on the morrow you will awaken with a stronger appetite."

Legolas gave a small nod and after a few minutes he drifted off.

Elrond tucked the blankets more securely around the elven Prince's prone frame before he sat back down to the book he'd been perusing whilst Elrohir had helped feed the Prince.

'Classic Recipes of  _Eryn Galen_ '– it was an old tome that Elrond had had Erestor dig out and one he hoped would aid him in his quest to get the Prince to eat a full meal again.

**~o~**

The following evening saw Elrond slumped in his chair near the Prince's bed as he mulled over his wood elf recipe book once again. The day had been another failure as far as Elrond was concerned. Though Legolas had indeed woken up with an appetite and a willingness to attempt to eat, things had quickly gone downhill. Breakfast had been a small helping of scrambled eggs which the Prince had taken a rather long time delicately picking at, eventually finishing the entire thing. Elrond had been overjoyed – yet it was not to last – less than half an hour later the blonde had been violently sick, his nausea simply unwilling to relent.

Legolas had missed lunch once more as he fitfully slept through it (as had started to become his wont). Dinner hadn't gone much better with a wary Legolas only taking a few tiny bites of the dry toast served with his light carrot soup (made Woodland style) before declaring he felt ill and flatly refusing to take another bite. And he hadn't so much as even looked at the soup.

Elrond sighed as he stared down at the carrot soup recipe before he flipped past it. He was determined he would find something to tempt the Prince's taste buds with.

He'd just begun to look over the 'main meals' section of the book when a very soft knock was heard at the door.

Elrond frowned and wondered who it could be; he'd told Elrohir he was to have the night off (he was still far too exhausted and pale looking for Elrond's liking) and he'd told the rest of his staff that he'd be spending the night watching over his blonde charge.

With nary a sound lest he wake Legolas who was sleeping soundly for once, Elrond crossed to the door and opened it just enough that he could see out but none could see in.

He was surprised to find Erestor at the door.

Elrond stepped out of the room and shut the door gently behind him, " _Suilad_ Erestor – I did not look to see you tonight. Is something wrong? Do we have visitors? Am I needed on the main healing ward? Is -"

Erestor held up a hand, "Be calm Elrond. Am I really such a harbinger of doom that you must panic so simply because I visit you at night?" Erestor sniffed in mock hurt before he turned a smile on his long-time friend and Lord, "I bring no ill news – at least I do not think so."

Elrond arched an eyebrow, "What do you mean you do not  _think_  you bring ill news? Surely the news you came to tell me cannot have slipped your mind already? Are you losing your touch Erestor? Perhaps these long days are getting to be too much for you – I keep telling you there is no shame in taking on an assistant." Elrond grinned cheekily at his dark haired advisor.

"Silence  _Peredhil_  lest I retire altogether – we'd see then who needs an assistant," Erestor huffed with no real malice. "I do not know if I bring ill news or not because the missive that has arrived is addressed to neither you nor me nor indeed anyone in Imladris. It is addressed to 'the Captain of the Woodland Consort'." Erestor handed over the neatly folded missive for Elrond to study.

"'The Captain of the Woodland Consort'?" Elrond parroted. "I take it then that our missive reached Thranduil. Did nothing else come with it?"

"Nothing at all save that," Erestor gestured at the missive Elrond held. "But then again this  _is_  Thranduil we speak of – that blonde bastard's hardly a paragon for politeness is he? It's just like him to be so bloody cryptic and mysterious."

Elrond hurriedly grabbed Erestor from where they stood in front of the door and dragged him into an alcove a few doors down.

"Be careful how you speak – did you forget that the 'blonde bastard's' son lies behind those very doors."

Erestor had the good grace to colour slightly, "I thought he was asleep."

Elrond frowned, "He sleeps lightly and fitfully – he could awaken any moment and I would rather he didn't wake to hear you call his Father such things. I  _am_  trying to avoid any diplomatic incidents with the Woodland Realm if at all possible."

Erestor held his hands up in surrender, "Fine. Fine – I promise to try and hold my tongue around the young Prince."

"You only promise to  _try_?"

"Look Elrond – you and I both know that the boy's  _Adar_  is the most irritating  _ellon_  to have ever walked Arda – I will try. That's all I can do – to promise you anything else would be a lie."

Elrond simply shook his head – Erestor and Thranduil had never been great friends – Elrond supposed Erestor trying would be the best he could hope for.

"Whom do you suppose 'the Captain of the Woodland Consort' will be then?" Elrond got back to the matter at hand. "Think you Thranduil will make the trip himself?"

Erestor snorted, "Nay I do not think so."

Elrond frowned at him and Erestor held out his hands in supplication, "I am not being derogatory or pedantic Elrond – but just think about it. Thranduil is King, he is hardly likely to be able to simply up and leave on a whim."

Elrond studied the missive in his hands contemplatively, "On the contrary, I think it is precisely because he  _is_  King that he may come. He has the authority to come and go as he pleases. Besides it is his very own son that lies here injured and alone."

Erestor shrugged, "As I said before I am not trying to take a dig at Thranduil in this but I'd eat my hair clips if he were to arrive himself. The burdens of Kingship are heavy and not easily cast aside. Nay, I think he is more likely to send perhaps his daughter – what was her name again….ah yes Rithel. Or perhaps that grim faced Regent of his - Arahaelon. That is of course assuming Thranduil will send anyone quite so high ranking in his court. He may well just send a standard escort."

"I suppose you are right – it would be rather difficult for Thranduil to break away from his responsibilities though it would do the Prince the world of good to see his  _Adar._  Legolas claims constant nausea but I think homesickness and loneliness are playing a part in his lack of appetite and overall dreary mood. It would be good if this consort held a familiar face or two."

"Well I shouldn't go getting the young one's hopes up Elrond. In fact I wouldn't even mention the missive at all. Thanks to Thranduil's spectacular lack of communication skills we are completely in the dark as to who to expect to arrive. Telling the Prince someone is coming but then having no more to offer should he ask seems an unnecessary stress and a tad cruel. Better to let him be pleasantly surprised…or not as the case may be."

Elrond nodded slowly before, "I think you are right in this as well  _mellon-nin_. I shan't mention anything to Legolas in case it is just a rather impersonal escort that has come to simply see him home; nor do I want to be posed with questions I cannot answer."

Elrond handed the cryptic missive back to Erestor, "I shall leave you to prepare for our mysterious guests."

Erestor took the letter and scowled, "And shan't that be oh so much fun? Are we expecting Royalty or common soldiers or perhaps some lordling in between?" Erestor rolled his eyes, "It is well this house is so large for it seems I have a number of rooms to prepare."

Elrond couldn't help but laugh at his advisors mock histrionics and bid Erestor a good night before he slipped back into Legolas' private room.

The Prince remained fast asleep – eyes still firmly closed and Elrond could not stop a frown forming at the sight.

The  _Peredhil_  Lord settled himself back into his chair with his book, once more prepared for some late night reading. He really needed to get Legolas eating properly again so that the Prince could get firmly on the road to full recovery.

**~o~**

"Nothing is working  _Adar_ ; nothing tempts his appetite and he eats barely enough to survive. Were Legolas a mortal he'd have starved to death by now." Elrohir paced the length of Elrond's study and tugged at his braids in a stressed manner, "I truly worry for him  _Adar_. He does not eat and grief and guilt still consume him."

"He is lonely too," Elladan sighed even as he put an arm about his twin in order to stop Elrohir's increasingly frantic pacing. "We have had no word back from the Woodland Realm as yet in response to my letter. I am sure that plays on the Prince's mind as well."

Elrohir sighed deeply, "I regret ever telling him that you had even sent a missive. I honestly expected that the wood elves would have sent back some word by now, I mean he is their  _Prince_  – yet it has been well over a week now and nothing. Legolas must feel truly abandoned."

Elrond rubbed a hand wearily across his face, "Do not be so harsh on the wood elves. They have indeed sent a missive – we received it a mere three days after Elladan sent his."

The twins both whirled to face their  _Adar_  before Elrohir spoke, "Why did you not say something sooner  _Adar?_  This is good news – I am sure it will cheer Legolas somewhat."

"I did not say anything as the missive we received was not addressed to any of us nor even the Prince. It is addressed to 'the Captain of the Woodland Consort' whomever that may turn out to be. Erestor and I decided it best not to mention it as in all truth we have nothing to tell – we have no idea of what is contained in the missive nor any idea at all who is coming."

Elrond gave a small wry smile, "It has caused Erestor a great deal of stress in trying to prepare for our mystery guests."

Elladan nodded with understanding, "I see, so you do not wish to get the Prince's hopes up without knowing all the facts."

"Precisely, doubtless Legolas would be full of questions that I have no way of answering. We thought it best if he were just pleasantly surprised."

Elrohir tugged at his braids again and shook his head, "I must say I disagree  _Adar_. Surely just the hope of knowing he has not been abandoned by his people – that they are on their way to see him - will help the Prince's mental state. Help him feel less alone and isolated; give him something to look forward to."

Elrond shook his head, "As I said Elrohir – nothing save that missive which we cannot open has arrived from the wood elves. I know not who is coming and when. What if they do not plan on coming for another two months when the High Pass is sure to be free of any lingering spring snow? Or what if it is simply an impersonal escort who have been ordered to see their Prince home?"

Elrond gave a kindly smile to his younger son, "I see your point Elrohir – I really do, yet I do not want to add any more stresses to the Prince's already very burdened mind. To simply tell him someone is coming but not when nor who will leave his mind to wander and it just seems unfair and a bit cruel. As much as it may relieve him it could very well stress him further and I simply do not wish to risk it. Imagine if he were to sit and wait pining for a familiar face that may not appear for many months or not at all."

Elrond sighed, "His  _fëa_  is already so damaged – so heavy with grief and guilt. Nay Elrohir, I think this is for the best."

Elrohir shook his head and dragged his hands through his braids in frustration, "I still think this to be the wrong decision but I will not defy you on this  _Adar_. I'll not say anything about the missive to Legolas. Yet we still remain in a quandary as to how to get him eating more and thinking less. He has become so morbid and maudlin – nothing I say or do seems to help or indeed even register these days."

"Elro is right  _Adar_ ; Legolas has been increasingly unresponsive and listless – it is very worrying."

Elrond steepled his fingers before him and tapped his chin in thought. His sons had every right to be worried – the Prince was either consumed by his morose thoughts or apathetic to everything by day and spent his nights tossing, turning and crying out loud as night terrors plagued his sleep. He ate little; nit-picking at the food brought to him (twelve days of failed recipes later Elrond had now all but given up on his woodland cook book) and most worryingly of all Legolas wasn't healing.

His wounds all remained just as sore, red and raw as they had been when he'd first arrived. Even his smaller scratches and bruises lingered on looking as fresh as the day they had been sustained and his missing tooth showed no sign of growing back – a fact that only served to distress the blonde further.

"I fear he is fading again  _Adar_ ," Elrohir twirled a beaded braid round his finger. "The process is slower this time and far less dramatic but he  _is_  fading – sliding straight back into the Darkness which you spent so much energy to pull him away from."

Elrond sighed at Elrohir's prognosis – it was the same sad conclusion he had come to after checking on Legolas'  _fëa_  the previous night. The Prince  _was_  on a slow slide back into despair and Darkness.

Elrond rubbed his face again, "I'm sad to say you are correct Elrohir - the Prince does fade – and worse than that I'm not entirely sure how to help him. He is so mired in his grief and pain – grief and pain we know nothing of for he will not speak of it. He will allow none of us close enough to be of any real comfort; he subconsciously punishes himself for whatever sins he believes he has committed by not allowing himself even the smallest bit of relief. I don't know how we can break through to him."

Elrond stood up and straightened his robes as he prepared to head back to Legolas' room for his afternoon round of medicines and smiled at his sons in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "I am proud of you both for the aid you have lent to the Prince who is essentially a stranger. You have shown him a great deal of love and care and I ask that you continue to do so. That is all we can do for now along with providing for his practical needs. Show him he is cared for, show him there is still love and friendship in his world even amidst his loss, show him that all is not as bleak as it seems. Hopefully, hopefully it will prove to be enough. Hopefully that love and care will break through his shell of grief and keep Legolas from falling to despair completely."

**~o~**

Elladan snapped his vambraces - the last pieces of his armour - into place and checked again that  _Nyérënehtar_  was a firm and reassuring weight strapped into place on his belt. He was heading out with the troop Glorfindel was sending to investigate alleged increased troll activity on their borders.

In truth Elladan hadn't been asked to join the troop on their mission but once he had heard of their preparations the previous night after leaving his  _Adar's_  study he had all but bullied his way onto the mission.

For despite his  _Adar's_  best attempts at reassuring them in regards to Legolas getting well again, Elladan found himself unable to share in the hope that his  _Adar_ and his twin still seemed to hold for the blonde. He had seen the type of despair that was slowly consuming Legolas before and it hadn't ended well – it never ended well. And Elladan was loathe to watch yet another elven life disappear into the black hole that was grief and hopelessness. He couldn't bear to watch another once bright  _fëa_  fail to be saved despite his  _Adar's_  best treatments and hopes – he'd done that once and it had nearly killed him.

Nay, he needed a break – he needed to get out and do something that would actually produce results. Everything he had done and tried to do for Legolas had availed nothing so far; hunting and ridding the Imladris borders of trolls was something that he knew would produce visible results. Good results that would see his people remain protected and safe.

Oh sure, he knew Elrohir did not approve; knew Elrohir had wanted him to stay by his side as his twin continued to fight against the Darkness that threatened to consume the blonde Prince whom Elrohir had become so fond of. But Elladan could not – the lack of result and inactivity and guilt (always guilt) nagged at him, made him angsty and somewhat angry and Elrohir understood. So though his  _gwanûr_  did not approve Elrohir understood and let him go with nary a fuss.

Elrond was another matter altogether. His  _Adar_  had been both blatant and vocal in his disapproval of Elladan leaving on this patrol. The look Elrond had given him when he'd carried on regardless of his  _Adar's_ misgivings reminded Elladan of bad times he'd hoped they were all long past but it did not hinder his resolve to leave and do something that would yield a tangible result, something that would make him feel like he was doing some good - actually helping.

Satisfied with his armour and that he had all he needed Elladan swept down to the courtyard to meet the rest of the troop – careful to avoid the healing ward on his way.

**~o~**

Thranduil shifted ever so slightly upon Diomedes as he subtly stretched his cramped back. Fifteen days at a push Aglardaer had said. Well today was the fifteenth day and they had made it at last – Imladris.

Or at least they were upon the borders of Imladris and Thranduil was waiting with increasingly less patience as Aglardaer and Arodon spoke with the Noldor warriors that guarded the entrance to Elrond's hidden valley. For some reason that was completely unfathomable to the disguised Elven King they had yet to be granted entry and Thranduil felt his patience run out completely at the whispered conversation that was going on between his two warriors and the prissy Noldo who seemed to be the one holding them up.

Thranduil forced himself to unclench his teeth lest he grind them to dust in his aggravation and gave Diomedes a light tap to get his stallion moving forward once more as he pushed his way up toward the front of his group near Aglardaer and Arodon.

He'd waited long enough and his patience had run dry. He was dirty and bone tired. The trip from his much-loved Wood through the Mountains and across the plains beyond toward the Hidden Valley had proven to be far more exhausting and perilous than he'd hoped. They'd had not a moment's rest nor peace from the instant they had set upon the High Pass, first being forced to fight an over enthusiastic band of goblins before being ambushed by wargs. The ambush had taken them completely by surprise and they had sustained a fair few injuries even if they had been mostly superficial flesh wounds.

Once they'd finally navigated the slippery, still icy Mountain paths down to the plains below they had found themselves beset by an entirely new peril – trolls. Thranduil hadn't even thought to come upon the beasts for their path had been sure to keep them away from the Trollshaws yet it seemed that Elrond's border patrols were nowhere near vigorous enough in keeping the lumbering beasts at bay; and so they had spent an entire two nights dodging a number of rather enterprising trolls who had relentlessly stalked them. Thranduil had never been so glad to see the break of day and sunlight than he had been that morning as he and his  _maethyr_  had made all haste in a mad and frantic dash toward the Valley proper. He had survived it all – the thought of his beloved  _Lasseg_ driving him onwards.

And Thranduil had thought that that had been the last of his difficulties; had expected to simply breeze through into Imladris after explaining why they had come. He certainly hadn't expected to still be out here whilst he watched Aglardaer and Arodon argue in vain against whatever the leader of the Noldor guards was telling them. Thranduil was so close, so close to his precious son. So close to finally being reunited with Legolas at long last – and after all the dangers he'd brushed aside in his quest to see his son no stiff, stuck up Noldo was about to stop him.

"Just  _what_  is the hold up here?" Thranduil all but hissed, annoyance clear in each and every syllable as he faced down the guard that Aglardaer and Arodon were having so much trouble with.

The guard looked a little cowed at the venom in Thranduil's voice but rather admirably held his ground, "There is no real hold up – I have already sent someone ahead to announce your arrival so you can be properly greeted. And I am simply following protocol that states you must have an escort down into the Valley. For the way is steep and perilous to those who do not know it – we would not want you nor your horses to slip and injure yourselves. Our good Lord already has enough on his plate with one grievously injured elf who has been here some weeks – he does not need any more to attend. If you just be patient but a few moments I will have an escort assembled and ready to take you down the path."

Fear wrapped itself around Thranduil's heart and squeezed hard at the mention of the 'grievously injured elf' though he kept his face perfectly schooled into its irritated glower.

"Think you Noldo that after we traversed the  _Misty_   _Mountains_  we need your help in negotiating a mere  _path_?"

The guard faltered at that, mouth opening as though to speak but naught came forth and Thranduil took a deep breath in an effort to stave off the rage he could feel building within him at being hindered from getting to Legolas. "Stand aside – you have held us up long enough. We require no assistance from you nor your  _maethyr._ "

This pulled the guard from his daze and he stood up straight and moved to firmly block the path, "I am afraid I cannot do that – I must follow protocol. It would be on my head if you injured yourselves. The path is trickier to negotiate than you might think - especially for foreigners."

Thranduil saw red at that and leaned down to snarl at the guard completely ignoring Bôr's plea to be calm and not cause a scene. Diplomacy could hang for all Thranduil cared – nothing and no-one would hinder him a moment longer from getting to Legolas' side.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way. Noldo. For the injured elf you spoke of is  _my_  son, and may  _Eru_  help you if you do not remove yourself from my path this instant for he will not be the only one who will be 'grievously injured'." Thranduil barked even as his hands came up to rest on the hilts of his twin swords in a rather menacing manner.

The Noldor guard stood back hands going to the hilt of his own sword which in turn caused Thranduil's Elite and Bôr himself to pull their weapons in the face of the threat to their King.

" _Nuitha_! Everybody lower your weapons! Now!"

Thranduil snapped his gaze over to the one who had shouted – a dark haired elf at the head of a twelve-strong troop who bore more than a passing resemblance to Elrond.

"Who are  _you_  to order us around? Are you higher in rank than he?" Thranduil pointed one of his twin swords at the guard who now held his own sword up in a defensive stance, "If you are I suggest you command him to stand down and let us pass, I will not stand for his insolence nor him hindering me from seeing my son any longer. I have travelled too far and faced down too many perils to be stalled by one Noldo border guard now."

Thranduil glowered, "You  _will_  let us pass."

**~o~**

Elladan crested the highest point of the path up out of the valley of Imladris and stopped short in shock and stared at the sight before him. The sight of elves all holding swords in a rather threatening and very real manner toward each other was not something he thought he would ever see outside of the most gruesome and awful of history book illustrations.

Yet that was exactly the sight before him and he was shouting before he even realised it.

" _Nuitha_! Everybody lower your weapons! Now!"

In the next instant he was being accosted by the piercing icy blue eyes and furious tone of the one who seemed to be the leader of the group of foreign elves; and as the foreign  _ellon_  spoke (snarled) about being kept away from his son realisation hit Elladan. Pale blonde hair, blue eyes and of course the famous temper. This was Thranduil. King of the Woodland Realm. Father of Legolas. And the Imladris border guard had pulled weapons against him.  _Valar_ above!

"Please everyone be calm –  _sîdh_. I am sure there is nothing so serious that weapons need be brought forth."

After a stern glance and eyebrow at the border guards to put their weapons  _away_ Elladan slid off his horse, walked over and bowed before the angry Woodland King. " _Mae govannen Aran_ Thranduil, I ask your forgiveness and assure you that Imladris does not always greet her guests so poorly."

At the name Thranduil every one of the Imladris elves straightened up and bowed with the head border guard at the centre of the confrontation bowing especially low – mortified now he knew whom he had raised his sword to.

The guard placed his hand on his breast and straightened to face the Elven King, "My apologies  _Aran_  Thranduil…" The guard swept his eyes up and down Thranduil's plain uniform that matched the other elves with him. "I did not recognise you."

Elladan held back an annoyed sigh before he snapped at the guard, "Still – whether Royalty or commoner I should hope you greet all our guests with more warmth and welcome that this."

Ignoring the other's stammering apology Elladan waved the troll hunting company he had come with to continue along their way. His duty was here now – he could hardly turn his back on the Woodland King. Especially not after how things had gone thus far.

"I am truly sorry about this misunderstanding  _Aran-nin_  – I presume our guards were only following procedure in trying to gather you an escort but I understand your wanting to see Legolas post haste. If you will I can escort you down to him now."

"You have met my son?" Thranduil was struck by the familiarity this  _ellon_ had with his son.

Elladan realising his error gave a small apologetic smile, "Again  _Aran-nin_  I mean no insult but yes – I know  _Ernil_ Legolas – indeed it was my brother and I who bore him here from the Mountains." Elladan offered another shy smile, "Your son is not over fond of his title and has asked us to simply call him by his name."

The King nodded even as he tapped Diomedes into action, "That does indeed sound like Legolas. Please, lead on er…"

"Oh, begging your pardon Sire – my name is Elladan Elrondion," Elladan hastened to provide his name whilst he mentally shook his head at the total shambles that was this greeting of the Woodland King to his homeland. He didn't want to think of what sort of an impression Imladris had made upon the wood elves so far.

Yet the Woodland King didn't seem to care for anything save getting to Legolas' bedside and so without further ado Elladan leapt back upon Alarca and wheeled his horse around.

"Please follow me  _Aran-nin_  – I will take you to your son." Elladan turned to ensure he was being followed then started down the path, "Please have a care though the path is steep and wet due to last night's rain. It can be treacherous at times."

The Elven King snorted in a most un-kingly way, "You Noldor are so convinced we simple wood elves cannot handle a mere path yet we have already faced greater peril in crossing the Misty Mountains to get here in the first place. Please no more of this nonsense, lead on if you must but make haste. I would see Legolas as soon as is possible – I don't need an escort nor a herald – I just need to see my son."

Elladan nodded and picked up the pace until they were going at fair clip down the path. He didn't feel comfortable doing it – it was just not done – leading visitors down the steep entrance path to Imladris at such a pace. Yet once quick glance behind him at Thranduil and his grim faced warriors saw Elladan pick up the pace even more. For Thranduil looked as though he were ready to brush Elladan aside if he did not hurry.

It was odd to see the barely concealed fear Thranduil held in his eyes for the Prince. It was strange and rather difficult for Elladan to reconcile the mental picture he had of Thranduil – stiff, cold, bigoted and uncaring - with the father desperate to lay eyes on his son who followed close behind him. Elladan certainly hadn't expected that the Woodland King himself would deign to turn up to see Legolas and he certainly would not have imagined Thranduil to have arrived with the barest minimum of an escort and to be so plainly dressed. For the blonde wore not even a circlet nor was there any jewellery about his person save a small  _mithril_  hoop in each ear. He looked exactly like all his other  _maethyr._

And after a moment's thought Elladan supposed that maybe that was exactly what Thranduil was trying to do. After all he was sure to have enemies and travelling such a long distance richly adorned with a huge escort and announcing to any who cared to look that you were a rich and powerful King was probably not advisable.

Elladan slowed Alarca down to a trot as they reached the bridge that crossed over into the courtyard of The Last Homely House. The raven haired twin could plainly see a rather harassed looking Erestor and his serenely smiling  _Adar_  just coming to stand upon the steps leading up to the main house ready to greet Thranduil and Elladan felt himself relax minutely. It seemed the border guard had gotten word of their visitors to Erestor and his  _Adar_  in time for them to provide the appropriate welcome.

Good – the wood elves had not been greeted especially well so far.

Elladan and the wood elf party that followed him all clattered into the courtyard but before Elladan could even dismount and make introductions Thranduil had already hopped off his horse and made great strides filled with intent toward his  _Adar_ and Erestor.

Elladan gave up with a heartfelt sigh – diplomacy could hang.

**~o~**

Elrond kept his placid and hopefully welcoming smile in place upon his face as none other than Thranduil himself bore down upon them. In all truth Elrond was beyond surprised to see the blonde before him – the herald that had been dispatched by the border guard had simply said that a party from the Woodland Realm had arrived. He'd made no mention of the wood elves' notorious King being amongst the party.

Though Elrond could see why Thranduil hadn't been recognised – he was plainly garbed as a common woodland warrior – the long ash blonde hair that usually floated around loose and regal or topped by an over-elaborate crown was instead tied back into severe swordsman's braids.

Elrond had no time for further observation as Thranduil drew to an abrupt stop before him.

Elrond bowed along with Erestor hand on heart, " _Mae govannen Aran_  Thranduil. Imladris welcomes you. I hope your journey here has not been unpleasant."

"With all due respect Elrond please save all this," the Elven King waved a strangely unadorned hand around, "for my secretary Bôr – he will be the diplomat on this trip.  _I_ want to see my son."

Elrond held back a smirk - even after the two millennia since Elrond had last seen him Thranduil hadn't changed a bit. He was still the same upfront, brash, do-it-my-way-now  _ellon_.

"As you wish it Thranduil." If the blonde was dropping titles so would Elrond. "Erestor will see to your secretary, your  _maethyr_  and their needs. Follow me."

Elrond turned and headed into the house long robes sweeping behind him. It was odd not to hear the gentle swish of Thranduil's own robes along the floor – rarely if ever had Elrond seen his one-time friend so simply dressed.

The Elven King fell into step on his right and Elrond was not at all surprised to see Aglardaer fall into step on his left. Aglardaer and Thranduil were near inseparable whenever they were not in the Wood. The silver haired  _ellon_  a constant watchful presence over his best friend and King.

Elrond studied them both subtly before he made a decision. Thranduil would not like it once he found out but it was for the best. They both reeked of goblin and other detestable things – Elrond would not have them bring that scent around Legolas – it would certainly do him no good. So instead Elrond took the staircase to the left that led to the guest chambers of the main house rather than go right toward the healing chambers where Legolas' private room was located. Thranduil would be having a bath before he got anywhere near Elrond's charge.

The chamber that Erestor had readied in the (what they thought highly unlikely) case that Thranduil himself showed up was located right to the furthest ends of the house with a huge balcony and easy access to the trees. Elrond thought to break the silence and enquire after his surprising guests as they walked there – after all he need not match Thranduil for rudeness.

"So Thranduil you did not say whether your trip here went well…" Elrond prompted.

Thranduil gave an irritated grunt, "It was as expected – filled with the fell beasts of the Dark One though ultimately they gave us no real trouble. You however really ought to do something about your border with the Trollshaws. There is a serious infestation of those beasts - long has it been since I have seen so many."

Elrond frowned at the mention of the trolls; Glorfindel and a few returning residents had mention the increased troll activity. The  _Peredhil_  Lord did not like to think that his borders were growing dangerous.

"We have sent out a troop to assess and deal with the troll situation. You may well have seen them on your way in."

"Hn," Thranduil made a non-committal noise and Aglardaer offered no comment before Thranduil spoke again. "Your border guards lack all manners – that is another thing you ought to look into."

Elrond frowned once more but before he could say anything to that little rejoinder Thranduil was speaking again.

"Where have you hidden my son Elrond? How much farther?"

"Patience is supposed to be a virtue especially known to the  _Eldar._ "

"Do not try me Elrond."

"You will see your son soon enough Thranduil," Elrond threw open the door to the Elven King's chambers and gestured him and Aglardaer inside.

Thranduil all but brushed Elrond aside in his haste to get into the room, Aglardaer close behind and Elrond shut the door behind him and stepped firmly in front of it determined to stand strong in the face of the rage he was sure would be coming his way any second.

"What is this Elrond? Did you not hear me say I wish to see Legolas? Why are all you Noldor so determined to keep me from my son?" Thranduil gesticulated at the empty room furiously, "Where is my son?!"

Thranduil advanced in a menacing manner as he brushed aside the restraining hand Aglardaer had attempted to hold him back with.

"I told you not to try me Elrond – what game do you play? For it is in poor taste and I am not in the mood."

" _Sîdh_  Thranduil – Legolas is here and I will let you see him as soon as you have cleaned up. There will be servants with hot water for your bath shortly; once you have freshened up I will take you to see your  _ion._ "

Thranduil got even closer and reached out an iron strong hand to grip Elrond and give him a shake by his collar. "Think you I have time for all these niceties and frivolities when my son is laying ill in some Noldor forsaken land? I have not seen Legolas in months and so help me  _Peredhil_  you shan't keep me from him a moment longer!"

Elrond ripped his collar free from Thranduil's furious grip and took a step back – truly Thranduil hadn't changed a bit – he was still as quick to apoplectic anger as he had ever been. Still Elrond would not be intimidated nor swayed from his course.

"Please Thranduil calm yourself – I understand you well enough but heed me in this. It is for Legolas' own good."

Seeing that  _that_  had caught the blonde's attention Elrond continued, "Legolas suffers terrible night terrors whenever he sleeps – though he has not spoken of it he no doubt has dreams of the Mountains and the fell things he encountered there. I cannot have you swanning into his room smelling like orc and goodness knows what else and bring his nightmares even further to life."

Elrond exhaled wearily, "Please Thranduil, the quicker you do this the better. Surely you would not want to see your son further frightened by the smell and miasma of evil you carry about you?"

" _Hir_  Elrond makes a good point Thranduil – it will not take overly long for you to get cleaned up." Aglardaer touched Thranduil's arm, a small comforting gesture, "You have waited this long to see Legolas – another twenty minutes shall not kill you."

Elrond looked on as the two locked eyes, some unspoken conversation taking place before the  _Peredhil_  Lord watched the fight go out of Thranduil as the blonde turned to face him again and conceded.

"Where are these servants of yours with the water Elrond?"

As though summoned by the blonde's words there was a quick rap at the door before a flurry of servants swept into the room all bowing as well as they could to Thranduil whilst carrying big pots of steaming water on their way to the bath chambers. It seemed Erestor had briefed the servants on their Royal guest.

Elrond simply smiled and raised an eyebrow to Thranduil as the chamber filled with a bustle of steam and activity.

At the poorly hidden anxiety and anguish the  _Peredhil_  could see in the King's eyes however Elrond gentled his smile and clasped the blonde's shoulder tentatively, "Soon Thranduil, I promise you – soon you will see your son."

The Elven King shook off his hand to stand closer to Aglardaer, clenched his fists and said nothing. Elrond let it be, simply satisfied that he had gotten Thranduil to concede and do as he had asked without it turning into a full scale war.

**~o~**

Thranduil bit down on his tongue in order to restrain himself from barking at Elrond's servants to just bloody  _hurry_   _up_  already. He was furious that Elrond had tricked him and angrier still that the  _Peredhil_  actually had a point. He did not want to stir bad memories in Legolas by bringing the stench of goblin and troll to his bedside but  _Valar_  – how long could it possibly take for a bath to be prepared?

Just as Thranduil felt as though he were to burst from frustration at the wait the last servant, a demure looking  _elleth_  bowed low before him and spoke, "Your bath is prepared and ready for you _Aran-nin_. I hope all is to your liking – is there aught else you might require of me?"

Thranduil forced a smile to his face for he did not believe in rudeness toward those who were kind enough to serve him things. " _Hannon-le Hiril-nin_  but I will be fine. I require nothing else."

The  _elleth_  blushed, dipped another low curtsey and scuttled out of the room. Thranduil barely waited for the door to shut behind her before he swept into the bath chamber, threw the door shut behind him and began to strip off. This would be the quickest bath in the history of Arda, Thranduil thought, as he hurriedly rid himself of his light armour followed by his torn and sullied uniform which the King couldn't help but grimace at in distaste. Elrond really did have a point he supposed – it truly would not have done to have shown up to Legolas' bedside in such filthy garb.

Tossing the grimy garment aside Thranduil all but dived in the hot bath eager to get it over with so he could finally, finally see his  _Lasseg_  again.

**~o~**

Aglardaer shook his head as the bath chamber door slammed shut behind Thranduil. His impatient friend had been in such a hurry that he doubted Thranduil realised he had nothing clean to change into.

Aglardaer swung round to face Elrond, "If you point me in the right direction  _Hir-nin_  I shall go and fetch the King's bags – he has all but forgotten that he will need clean things to change into."

Elrond smiled, "No need  _Hir_ Aglardaer – the servants will have them here any minute and please, if it is alright with you there is no need for such stiff formality between us. After all Thranduil has paid it no heed and we were once very good friends – were we not?"

Aglardaer smiled as millennia old memories swam to the forefront of his mind, "Aye, we were  _all_  great friends once; I should hope we could be again. And I will drop the titles if it pleases you Elrond – though do not mistake the fact that Thranduil has dropped your title for a form of endearment. He still does not think very much of you and is likely just trying to rile you."

Elrond laughed, "Well I know it and have long made my peace with that fact Aglardaer. I would reclaim your friendship however if you are willing to extend it again."

"In all honesty it never left Elrond. Granted I should have reached out more but alas… duties and distance have conspired against me. Still I shall make greater effort now – to keep in touch, to maintain our friendship." Aglardaer's smile fell as he grew suddenly serious, "We are all very much in the debt of you and your sons for rescuing and tending our Prince Elrond."

Aglardaer dropped his voice to a near inaudible whisper to avoid being overheard by Thranduil in the next room, "Thranduil would have faded had Legolas been lost to him. The worry has very nearly sent him to  _Mandos_ as is. Truly, I and all the Woodland realm are very, very grateful for what you have done."

"You owe us nothing – my sons and I did what we had to -"

Elrond was cut off as there was a rap at the door and Aglardaer crossed over to open it to two servants who bore Thranduil's belongings. The silver haired  _ellon_ smiled gratefully at them and relieved them of their burdens before he set about picking out something simple and comfortable that would not call unwanted attention to Thranduil.

Galion had packed well and in no time Aglardaer had a simple silk tunic and soft breeches at the ready for Thranduil. He could still hear splashes as they sounded dully behind the closed bath chamber door and Aglardaer decided he still had some time.

The Commander dropped his voice to a whisper again, "Come now Elrond, quickly tell me all that has befallen our Prince. Where was he found? And in what condition? How does he fare now? What is the long term prognosis for both his  _hröa_  and his  _fëa_? When is he likely liable to be able to return home to the Wood? Let us speak quickly whilst Thranduil is otherwise occupied."

"I…" Elrond hesitated and Aglardaer resisted the urge to act exactly like his friend and King and instead held back a frustrated growl.

"Thranduil trusts me with his very life Elrond – you know this. It has been a long time indeed but you cannot have forgotten how close we are – there are no secrets between Thranduil and I. He will not fault you for telling me these things. Indeed he will likely not even have the presence of mind to ask them himself once he lays eyes upon Legolas. And someone must ask these questions Elrond – this is our Prince we speak of."

Elrond sighed, cast a furtive glance at the bath chamber door before he gave a quick jerk of his head, "You are right – come we will speak on the balcony."

Aglardaer nodded and gestured for Elrond to lead before he followed. He felt an odd mixture of fear and anger as he thought about the things he was about to hear. He loved Legolas dearly too. He had been a big part the young blonde's life right from the day of his birth and he viewed him as kin, as a trouble prone nephew. What had happened to Legolas had stung Aglardaer too though he had been careful to conceal it around Thranduil who needed nothing added to his own grief.

And that was why Aglardaer would take it upon himself now to find out all these things – Thranduil would be utterly and completely distracted with Legolas and would not think to ask all that needed to be known straight away.

It would also be good for Aglardaer to know these things in advance for the time would come when Thranduil would ask these same questions himself and Thranduil might not take the answers as well as Aglardaer would. His friend was oft given to mercurial, volatile moods – it would be good for Thranduil to have someone who knew as much as he did to help calm him and keep him from despair. Keep him from overthinking and getting too far inside his own head. Keep him from making any rash decisions.

And so Aglardaer braced himself and kept his face statue still as Elrond began his tale.

**~o~**

Thranduil stood from his still hot bath water – hair freshly washed and skin thoroughly scrubbed and realised he had a slight problem. He had nothing clean to wear. He threw the pile of crumbled, dirty clothing that was his uniform a grimace and cursed his impatience. He wasn't even sure where his bags were.

A knock at the door followed by Aglardaer's voice brought Thranduil out of his musings on his predicament.

"Tis only I Thranduil – can I come in? I've brought you something you've forgotten in your haste."

Thranduil scowled and rolled his eyes over the smugness he could hear in his friend's voice before he barked out a terse, "Come."

Aglardaer did so, shut the door behind him and held out several items of clean clothing to Thranduil an insufferable smirk upon his face.

"Don't say another word about it Aglardaer," Thranduil warned before he gave in and smiled, " _Hannon-le_ , I am glad you still have your wits about you."

Aglardaer waved a hand as Thranduil dressed, "He is your son and you have been very worried – you are allowed to be somewhat absent minded."

Thranduil simply nodded as he hurriedly buttoned the breeches and pulled on the tunic before he begun to drag his silver toothed comb through his wet hair.

The Elven King eyed his Commander as he begun to pull his long blonde hair back into swordsman's braids, "You have not yet bathed nor changed yourself – will you not be coming with me to visit Legolas?"

"I shall come to see the Prince but not just yet – today belongs to just you –  _Adar_ and  _ion_  reunited once more. Take your time and don't worry about anything; Bôr shall handle all things diplomatic and either one of the Elite or myself will be on hand at all times. Should you need anything you have but to call and we will see to it."

Aglardaer straightened Thranduil's braids and then clapped him on the shoulders with a smile. "You are perfectly presentable now – go and see your son. And give Legolas the love and best wishes of us all."

Thranduil smiled, "I shall."

And with that he swept from the bath chamber and locked eyes with Elrond who had been waiting patiently outside.

"Now then  _Peredhil_  – no more deviations or excuses. Take me to see my son."

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adar – Father
> 
> Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas
> 
> Riel-nin – My Princess
> 
> Ellon – Male elf
> 
> Egyl Edain – Evil Men
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Daer-Adar - Grandfather
> 
> Peredhil – Half Elven
> 
> Ernil – Prince
> 
> Hir-nin / Hir – My Lord / Lord
> 
> Eryn Galen – Greenwood the Great
> 
> Suilad – Greetings
> 
> Mellon-nin - My friend
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Nyérënehtar – (Quenya) Literally: Sorrow Slayer; Slayer of Sorrow Elladan's broad sword
> 
> Gwanûr – Brother
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) Warriors
> 
> Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas
> 
> Nuitha – Stop, Do not continue
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Mae Govannen – Well met
> 
> Aran-nin/Aran - My King/King
> 
> Eldar – Elves
> 
> Ion – Son
> 
> Elleth - Female elf
> 
> Hannon-le – Thank you
> 
> Hiril-nin - My Lady
> 
> Hröa – Body (Quenya)
> 
> Horses:
> 
> Alarca - Elladan's horse (Quenya) Agile
> 
> Diomedes – Thranduil's horse – (Greek) Cunning Warrior
> 
> A/N: Do read on – it's a double post


	36. Chapter 36

Thranduil followed his half-elven host through the vast halls of his house just as impatiently as he had before. Every step he took made him feel more and more anxious over what he would find when he finally laid eyes on Legolas. The missive he'd received had said Legolas was 'unwell' but knowing his son that could mean any number of frightening things; and much to his great shame Thranduil felt far too nervous – nay scared – to ask Elrond what to expect.

At last they stopped in front of a large oaken door that had been painted white. The halls here smelled of clean, sharp medicinal herbs and Thranduil knew this time Elrond played no tricks – Legolas was here. He was finally about to see his son again and the thought made his stomach give an odd lurch as his thoughts again nervously wondered at the condition he would find Legolas in.

Thranduil determined he would simply enter the room and face whatever was thrown at him when he laid eyes upon his son. Yet Elrond seemed to have a different idea as the  _Peredhil_  placed his hand upon the door knob but made no move to turn it.

"Elrond -" Thranduil started, about to tell the dark haired  _ellon_  not to start with his delaying tactics again but Elrond cut him off with a hushed whisper.

"I just think I ought to warn you about the state Legolas is in Thranduil. He has suffered numerous injuries, some of which point toward a hostile period of captivity. It may be somewhat distressing for you but you must remain calm. It will not help your son if you show your horror plainly upon your face."

Thranduil was about to hiss back in umbrage because truly – whom did Elrond take him for -but the  _Peredhil_  held up a hand in a placating manner and continued.

"Please, I do not say these things to undermine you nor because I think you weak in some way – I just want you to be prepared. Because though you are a seasoned warrior these things always hit hardest when they affect our children. So  _Adar_  to  _Adar_  please heed my words and hide all your grief and rage from your son. It will  _not_  help him."

The solemnity of Elrond's words saw Thranduil simply nod his head in acquiescence without any of his usual sardonic commentary and satisfied Elrond finally turned the door knob before he stood to the side and gestured Thranduil in.

The room was large and airy, with all the windows thrown open to the fresh spring air that did nothing to hide the strong smell of medicines, herbs and antiseptic that hung within the room. There was a dark haired  _ellon_  who had been sitting at the side of the large bed who had quietly stood, bowed and introduced himself in a whisper.

Elronir or Ellahir or something of that ilk – Thranduil heard not and cared not.

For at that moment he only had eyes for the occupant of the bed. The occupant of the bed who was swathed seemingly from head to toe in bandages, the occupant who seemed to be stuck in some sort of night terror – sweating, head tossing and the occasional fear filled murmur. The occupant that just so happened to be his son. His  _Lasseg._

Thranduil was over to the bedside in a flash and he simply stared down at the prone figure before him. Elrond had seen fit to give him a warning – even his imagination had given him a taste of what to expect – but this, this was far worse than even what he had imagined. Far, far worse.

Legolas was pale, very, very pale and he looked almost like a corpse as he lay in a poor mimicry of sleep. His eyes were firmly shut, a sight that set Thranduil's heart racing and underneath said eyes were dark bruises that told just how poor his son's sleep had been recently. Legolas' usually proud high cheekbones were sunken in and gave him the appearance of a starving waif. There was a bandage wrapped all around his head and here and there in between the dull golden hair Thranduil's sharp eyes could pick out the odd speck of  _red_  blood.

Legolas' entire left side from his neck down seemed covered in bandages also – thick, bulky and worrying – whilst the little skin that was visible was mottled all manner of colours from bruises and scratches of all sizes. A blanket had been pulled up to Legolas' navel, yet Thranduil could tell under the thin material that there were still more bandages wrapped about his son – particularly around his right thigh and ankle.

Thranduil felt rage and grief fight for dominance in him as he went to reach for Legolas' hands to hold and touch his precious son again but found that they too were wrapped in the same ominous yet neat, pristinely white bandages. Only the very tips of his fingers poked out from them - scratched and cut with chipped, cracked fingernails.

And Thranduil nearly wept there and then; for there was nary a place he could touch his son that would not hurt him in some way. He could not hold his hands nor gently stroke his brow and Thranduil was afraid to even cup his cheek – for even Legolas' face had not escaped unscathed from the scratches and bruises that marred the rest of his body. Even his lips were overly red and rather swollen looking.

Thranduil simply stood and watched his son as he let his emotions roil around unchecked within him even as he maintained a marble-esque impassive face.

He should have killed them - all of them, one by one in the slowest and most brutal ways he could think of. Those  _ŷn yrch_  did not deserve mercies such as a fair trial; Thranduil should have listened to his instincts and slaughtered them all – for just look at misery and the suffering they had put Legolas, his  _Lasseg_ , his only son through – and not a shred of remorse had any of them shown save their leader Blacwin.

A whimpered cry and particularly forceful jerk of Legolas' head broke through the Elven King's murderous thoughts.

Thranduil clenched his fists and with great strength of will forced all his emotions into submission. Elrond had again been rather irritatingly right – neither his grief nor his rage would help Legolas here and now. Nay, all Legolas needed right now was for him to simply be his  _Adar_. He'd have time to plot the deaths of the Men in his dungeons later.

"No,  _annin_ , no…no…"

Legolas' fearful cries saw Thranduil shake himself into action and he turned toward the two other  _ellyn_  in the room, "Do you have any thick blankets?"

The young one - Elronir or Ellahir – looked at him in confusion, "Thicker blankets?"

"Yes, yes," Thranduil gestured impatiently with one hand whilst he finally gave in and slowly and ever so gently cupped Legolas' less bruised looking cheek with the other in an attempt to soothe him.

"Well, yes we do have thicker blankets but they are all in the store cupboards for tis spring now. Would you have me fetch some?"

Thranduil could see that though the young one (who looked eerily identical to his earlier guide down into the valley) wanted to help he was still completely lost as to why Thranduil thought heavier bedclothes would help.

"Yes please fetch some, say eight or so as quickly as you can – tis a practice we have in the Wood to help our  _maethyr_  – those who cannot sleep when in the infirmary or back from a difficult patrol. We tend to use blankets that have been weighted but several thick blankets will accomplish the same thing."

Thranduil was careful to keep his voice to a whisper even as he continued to stroke his son's cheek. "The weight provides a pressure that is calming and relaxing to the  _hröa_  and allows the one afflicted to gain meaningful rest."

"Right."

Elronir or Ellahir rushed to the door and slipped out with nary a sound to do as Thranduil had bid and the King found his eyes drawn back to his fretfully sleeping son. He continued to stroke his cheek and whispered comforting nonsense to Legolas wanting nothing more in all of Arda than to make all his hurts, fears and pains go away that very instant.

The young one was not long in retuning - arms laden with thick, soft woollen blankets. Thranduil reluctantly drew back from where he stroked Legolas' cheek and instead took the first blanket offered him by Elronir or Ellahir and placed it over the thin spring blanket that already covered his son.

Slowly and carefully, all whilst murmuring soothing words to Legolas, Thranduil piled the blankets (seven in all) upon his son careful to fully cover him from neck to toe. The older blonde also loosely tucked each one about Legolas until he looked as though he were in a cocoon.

"Will he not overheat in all that Thranduil? I know he is an elf but recently it's been hard to keep him at a steady temperature due to the damage to his  _hröa._ " Elrond stood to the side sceptical but doing nothing to interrupt the Elven King.

"Nay, trust me Elrond this works. As I said in the Wood we have blankets that the  _nethryn_  have sewn weights into – but here I shall simply have to improvise with a good few heavy blankets. Besides, tis only early Spring – the air is still fresh and quite cool and all the windows in this room are open. He will be well."

Thranduil smoothed the last of the blankets then gently gave Legolas' cheek another fond stroke before he begun to sing. Low, slow and soothing in a Silvan dialect – twas one of the songs Thranduil always sung to his son whenever Legolas found himself laid low in bed by some misfortune.

It took a good half hour but at last Legolas calmed switching from night terrors to more pleasant dream paths and Thranduil nearly sighed in relief pleased that his son was still and no longer caught in the throes of some awful memory. Yet he did not stop singing.

He simply finally made himself comfortable in the chair that Elronir or Ellahir had vacated and sang on as he watched over his precious  _Lasseg._

**~o~**

After another hour in which Legolas had not so much as twitched Thranduil deemed it safe to stop singing for the time being and he swept his eyes round the room to land on the young Elronir or Ellahir who had remained in the room – mixing up herbs and medicines at a miniature apothecary at the other end of the room. Elrond himself had left to 'go and assist Erestor' in welcoming the rest of Thranduil's party after promising he would return in time to help administer Legolas' evening dose of medicines.

The young  _ellon_  seemed to feel the weight of the Elven King's gaze and he looked up and spoke in a low whisper, "Is there aught that you need  _Aran-nin_?"

Thranduil considered him for a moment – the young one had been naught but helpful and attentive toward Legolas since Thranduil had arrived and doubtless he had been ever since his son had crashed into his life. Thranduil suddenly felt ashamed that he had not even bothered to learn the name of one who had shown his stricken son so much kindness.

"Please forgive me  _penneth_  but I missed your name earlier – I am Thranduil and you are…"

"Oh I'm Elrohir  _Aran-nin,_ Elrohir Elrondion and truly there is nothing to forgive – seeing your son in such a state…well I am not surprised you did not catch my name earlier."

Thranduil nodded at Elrond's other son, "You are kind to overlook my rudeness."

Legolas' breath hitched just then and in an instant Thranduil's attention was back upon his son as he murmured soothing words once more. Legolas settled again and after a long moment Thranduil looked back over to Elrohir.

"Is this normal for Legolas? To sleep at such an odd hour of the day – tis three hours past noon."

"Aye it is; tis a practice Legolas has taken to over the past two weeks, sleeping through the entire middle of the day until just before the evening meal."

The dark haired twin sighed and pushed his mortar and pestle aside, "It leaves us in a bit of a quandary – as he does need as much sleep as he can get seeing as so much of it is disturbed by night terrors. Then on the other hand Legolas has had hardly any appetite and eats very little – he could truly benefit from being awake for the noon day meal. Still for now  _Adar_ has deemed it best that he gets the rest. Then once he is stronger hopefully he will have more of an appetite."

Thranduil gave an understanding hum of acknowledgement before he spoke again, "Legolas never has very much appetite when injured – he oftentimes will not eat at all unless forced to. Left to his own devices he would simply ignore all meals brought to him. When he awakens he shall eat - worry not. I am well versed in coaxing food into him."

Elrohir gave a smile and swivelled on his chair to give the King rather than the medicines he prepared his full attention. "Does he get into these sort of scrapes often? I have already asked him myself but he avoided answering me."

Thranduil gave a soft snort of amusement, "Aye, much to my continuous despair Legolas has a rather unfortunate and irritating knack for falling into these sorts of predicaments." The King frowned then, "Although, I must say, never has he gotten into quite such serious trouble as this."

Thranduil studied his battered, bruised and bandaged son as he now slumbered peacefully before he glanced out one of the windows at the position of  _Anor_. There would be at least another three to four hours before the dinner bell rang depending on when Elrond's Noldos took their evening meal and the Elven King settled himself more comfortably in his bedside chair and began to sing once more as he begun the anxious wait for his son to awaken.

**~o~**

Legolas gave a small soft groan as he felt his consciousness being dragged back into the realm of wakefulness against his will. He didn't really feel like waking up; he'd only be smothered by a worried Lord Elrond, Elrohir and Elladan. They'd try to coax him into speaking of his ordeal or his bad dreams before they fussed round him, prodding and poking as they checked his wounds and changed his bandages. He'd then be forced to take the vile medicines presented to him before having to choke down a few mouthfuls of food to satisfy them and get them to stop looking at him with such undisguised concern.

On the other hand if he went back to sleep he'd have to deal with his recurring and quite frankly terrifying nightmares. The ones in which he was grabbed at by a thousand rough hands, trussed up like some bird for roasting, stared at and mocked by grey hateful eyes and teasing Sindarin words all whilst his body was deviously and covertly broken in horrible, painful ways. Or perhaps he'd suffer through another one where he was chased by an army of jeering, leering orcs all baying for his blood; he could never quite get away from them –not before he was shot at and pierced by hundreds of their terrible crossbow bolts. The imagined pain enough to set him to screaming his throat raw and scratching at and beating away the caring hands that tried hard to soothe him upon awakening.

Or maybe still another one that came round with awful frequency – the one where Faervel died in his arms, a pool of viscous, poppy red blood all around them as his friend gasped his last breaths as he struggled against the blood that slowly filled his lungs and dribbled down his cheek. And in the dream Faervel always looked at him with sad, reproachful eyes until he choked his last.

Legolas gave another quiet but tortured groan and decided that awakening and being mothered to death by the  _Peredhil_  trio would be far preferable to suffering through another round of nightmares should he chose to go back to sleep again. Although strangely enough he did not feel nearly as exhausted and mentally shattered as he usually did upon awakening; almost as if his sleep had actually been restful.

Still pondering the mystery Legolas dragged open his eyes (he was privately rather worried over the fact he still slept with them closed but he'd be damned if he told any of his  _Peredhil_  carers.)

The Prince stared at the face looming above him and firmly shut his eyes before he gave a weak rub at them with his good arm for surely he was seeing things. He blinked them open again only to see the same face looming over him. A face that was oh so familiar and had been very much missed by Legolas; yet he still couldn't quite believe it. He must be dreaming – though this was a far better dream than any he'd had recently.

" _Ad_ …" Legolas coughed to clear his dry throat and tried again. " _A-adar_?" Legolas voiced in wonder.

"Yes  _ion-nin, Valar_  I cannot tell you how good it is to see you again – and awake at that." His  _Adar's_  face was beaming down at him.

" _Adar_?" Legolas was still not quite able to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Was this actually real? Or was he suffering a particularly cruel dream – cruel in that it was something he longed for so badly, to no longer be alone in a foreign land, to have a familiar face by his side as he recovered - only to awaken and have it be nothing but his fevered imagination.

Yet a very real feeling hand gently cupped his cheek and his  _Adar's_ face drew neared to his as he touched his brow to Legolas' and the younger blonde found his sense of smell flooded with the familiar scent of his father. A unique combination of pine, oak sap and fresh green grass – the epitome of their beloved Wood.

"I am here  _ion-nin_ , truly I am here – wonder no more. I am here with you.  _Sîdh_."

Slowly his  _Adar_ pulled away to move back into a sitting positon and Legolas gasped at the loss of contact unwilling to forgo it so soon and his good hand shot out to grasp the hand his  _Adar_ had held cupped to his cheek.

" _Adar_."

" _Sîdh ion-nin_  – I am here, relax. Elrohir will be ready with your medicines shortly then you can have something to eat.  _Sîdh_."

Yet Legolas did not calm as a maelstrom of emotions surged though him at the sight of his  _Adar._  Pure joy raced through him at the same time as consternation, sadness and even a little anger. Joy for his _Adar_ was here and Legolas was no longer alone; consternation, sadness and anger over the secret his  _Adar_ had kept from him in regards to Faervel being his bodyguard.

Legolas simply gaped at his father for a good long while before the wild joy of having his  _Adar_ here with him at one of the very lowest times of his life overshadowed any negative feeling.

His.  _Adar._ Was. Here.

And in that very moment that was all that mattered to Legolas.

" _Adar_!" With a tearful sob Legolas threw himself at his father and nothing had ever felt better than the strong arms that gently closed round him in a protective hug.

Overwhelmed Legolas began to cry in earnest as he finally fully let fly all the pent up emotions he'd held in since that fateful morning.

All the pain, the hurt, the isolation, the loss he had had felt and suffered through came rushing up from where Legolas had buried them deep and flooded out of him in wave after wave of harsh sobs that wracked his prone frame.

On some level he knew he was worrying his  _Adar_ for never before had he ever reacted like this; he'd been through very difficult things before and had managed to keep hold of himself. Yet the horror of all that Legolas had endured these past weeks saw the younger blonde unable to keep hold of his emotions now that they had finally broken free. He clutched all the harder at his  _Adar_  unmindful of the aches and pains that bloomed across his body at such actions.

Legolas clung desperately to Thranduil as a lifeline through the violent emotional storm that assailed him – completely unable to silence the crying that shook him – and was gratified to feel himself being held closer in return.

Soothing words were murmured into his hair and gentle hands rubbed his back and rocked him slowly back and forth; and though Legolas still cried he felt somewhere deep inside him as though some small weight had been lifted from his very  _fëa_.

**~o~**

Thranduil caught hold of his son in surprise as Legolas launched himself at him and enveloped him within his arms as he tried in vain to soothe his distraught son, " _Sîdh, sîdh Lasseg-nin_  – it is ok – I am here and you will be well again."

Yet Legolas only gripped him harder, tighter, more desperately and Thranduil could not help the pang of worry that flitted through him as he thought of the pain such actions might be causing his son. Yet he pulled Legolas just that bit closer – so that his youngest was practically sitting on his lap – despite knowing it better to coax Legolas back into lying upon his bed again. Judging by the way his son held him in a death grip Thranduil figured Legolas would react very badly to being pushed away from him now.

So he continued to murmur nonsense words against limp golden hair that had lost its luster and began to gently rock the too light frame within his arms. His hands instinctively rubbed soothing circles into a heavily bandaged back and slowly ever so slowly Thranduil maneuvered himself so that both he and Legolas were back upon the bed. With patience and deliberate yet delicate touches Thranduil eased his son back into a more comfortable lying down position against him never once stopping his continuous babble of soothing nonsense even though he was quite sure Legolas heard naught over the sobs that shook his battered frame.

Thranduil frowned at this before he managed to remember Elrond's words, caught himself and smoothed his face back into neutral. Not since he'd been an elfling at Celeblassel's own funeral had Thranduil ever seen Legolas so distraught.

And that worried him. Deeply.

Thranduil looked up around the room to see if he could glean anything from Elrohir by looks alone yet the room was empty and the King could only assume the twin had left to give him and Legolas privacy.

Frustration threatened but Thranduil pushed it aside with practiced ease – he would have time enough to question both Elrond and his offspring on all they knew of Legolas' condition.

Still that thought did little to calm his troubled mind even as he continued to try and soothe his son. What terrors had Legolas been through that would see him collapse into an emotional wreck like this?

Thranduil could clearly feel the fear, pain, grief and shame that rolled off his son in palpable waves and he pulled him just a fraction closer ever mindful of the bandages that hid Legolas' hurts from his sight. The King did not try to shush his son, simply held him as the toxic emotions poured forth freely; though it hurt him almost as a physical pain to see Legolas thusly Thranduil knew it was good for his son to get rid of these emotions. He'd never recover properly if he kept them all bottled up inside.

And that was all Thranduil wanted – for his son to recover, be declared well enough for travel whereupon Thranduil would whisk him away back to the comfort, familiarity and safety of their palace home.

Thranduil held back a sigh, it was times like this where he regretted his title of King – for perhaps had he not held it Legolas would have chosen a different path than that of the warrior. Yet from birth Legolas was destined to serve the realm via military service; it was tradition, it was proper and it was what was expected of those in the Royal family – to lead by example. After all they could not expect others to serve when they themselves were loath to do so.

But that did not mean Thranduil had to like it, had to like seeing both his children becoming efficient, deadly tools in the seemingly ever ending war against Darkness. He'd far rather that they had been able to choose a different, less violent path – one less likely to leave them trembling, terrified, damaged messes that he had to clean up.

The Elven King shook himself from his dark thoughts – they'd not help, not now. Futilely wiping away another tear from his son's face Thranduil began to sing again - both he and Legolas sorely needed the distraction.

_Day is done,_

_Gone the sun,_

_From the lake, from the hills, from the sky._

_All is well, safely rest,_

_Blessed Lady Elbereth is nigh._

**~o~**

At length Legolas' sobs subsided into hiccups before they too calmed into mere sniffles and Thranduil gave his son another delicate hug before he tilted Legolas' face up towards his own.

"I know not what you have suffered through  _Las-nin_  but it is clear to me that you  _have_  suffered and for that I am deeply sorry. I would protect you from every hurt if I could and it galls me I could do nothing to stop this harm from being inflicted upon you."

Thranduil ran a slightly shaky hand through the ends of Legolas' knotted hair as he willed his rage away yet again. "I am here now though  _ion-nin_  and I will do all in my power to see you recovered, hale, whole and returned to our Wood again."

Legolas said nothing, only gave a long, sad sounding sniff and Thranduil's heart went out to him, "Ah  _ion-nin_  it pains me beyond measure to see you thus. Would you speak to your  _Adar_  of what is on your heart and mind? For I can see the weight of what you bear is almost crushing you and I would take some of the burden if I could."

There was complete silence as Legolas seemed to wrestle with himself over something before the Prince spoke in a soft shaky voice, "Vel is dead…he died…because of me…"

Legolas choked on a sob before he was able to continue just as shakily, "Vel is dead…because he came after me…because  _you_  pledged him to it…why…why  _Adar_? How could you ask him such a thing?"

Legolas collapsed into sobs again and Thranduil gave a long slow exhale as he contemplated what he could possibly say that would explain the situation with Faervel, comfort his son and go some way to alleviating Legolas' grief.

Truth would be best Thranduil decided however hard it was to bear; no matter how much Legolas might come to resent him.

Pushing aside the sting of the accusation that had been in Legolas' voice Thranduil began slowly, "Faervel was a brave and loyal friend Legolas – you know this. What you did not know however was the extent of his loyalty and friendship toward you; just how far he was willing to go in his love for you."

Thranduil took a deep breath and plowed on, "The idea of becoming a Royal Bodyguard was Faervel's alone – none can be coerced into such a position as well you know – he came freely and willingly, ready to pledge his life in protection of yours."

Legolas gave a pained sound at this but Thranduil continued undeterred, "He passed with flying colours; was one of the best candidates to have ever undertaken the trails in millennia yet I was still hesitant to name him your bodyguard. I feared it would ruin your friendship and that he was too young for such a serious oath and undertaking. Indeed I did turn him down, yet both Faervel and his own  _Naneth_  begged for him to be given the opportunity to protect his friend – one he considered as his very own gwedyr."

"How could you have changed your mind?" Legolas' voice was hoarse with emotion, "How could you have let him talk you round? You should have stuck to your decision  _Adar_ …if you had then Vel would not be…would not be dead."

Thranduil flinched ever so slightly at the even stronger accusation from his son but answered truthfully, "I changed my mind as I could see none of the other candidates would care for you so completely. Faervel's love for you was not lightly given and I knew he would do his utmost to keep you, my precious son, as safe and as sound as he could. You are blessed indeed to have found friendship such as his was."

"But it is no more…it is gone now…because he took some stupid pledge to protect my life like it was worth any more than his own. And you…" Legolas took a deep steading breath, "You  _let_  him. I do not understand how you could be so selfish…am I really worth more than any one elf?"

Thranduil sighed heavily, Legolas' words hurt. Yet is seemed his son was still not done.

"And worse than all that – as if letting my best friend take a suicide pledge were not bad enough – you keep the entire thing secret from me for centuries." Legolas was crying again now – big, fat tears that rolled silently down his pained face, "How could you? Did you not think that I deserved to know? He was my friend  _Adar_ …one of my very best friends…and now…he is gone…"

Legolas' words ended on a wail and he collapsed in on himself as he shook with sobs once more. Thranduil reached to pull him close again but this time Legolas held himself stiffly and Thranduil sighed again.

"The pledge Faervel undertook should never be besmirched as stupid nor suicidal Legolas. It is a serious and selfless pledge and it takes a great amount of love to undertake it. Do not cast aside what Faervel did for you so easily as that. That dishonours his name and I know that is not your intention. Faervel took his oaths in love and that is what you should remember of him – his loyalty, his friendship, his boundless love."

Thranduil gently ran his hand through Legolas' hair again as his son's posture softened ever so slightly. "As for the secrecy you can blame me for that entirely – none is to be put at Faervel's door. I ordered him to hold off on telling you; you had been so dead set against having a bodyguard, so adamantly against it that I knew you would take the news poorly. Especially if it came from Faervel. So I told him to keep silent on it and that I would tell you myself."

"It is much to my great shame that I never did – first there was that great incursion of wargs that drew my mind away from all else followed by the flash floods that swept through numerous parts of the forest. After that you were away on patrol after patrol as a novice warrior and I never could force myself to bring up a topic that could well cause an argument on the precious few days of leave you had back then." Thranduil pulled a more willing Legolas closer, "Afterwards, you graduated as a fully-fledged  _maethron_  and when you and Faervel were both put into the same troop I figured you would guess for yourself. The years went by and you were both promoted at the same time again - from the Standard Forces to the Elite Guard – once more in the same troop and I simply assumed you had figured it out by then and had made your peace with it."

Thranduil huffed a sigh before he smiled fondly, "Did Faervel really not tell you after all these years?"

Legolas sniffed, "Nay he did not – he followed your orders to the bitter end – he even went so far as to have a glamour covering up his Royal Bodyguard tattoo. I found out quite by accident, just recently when he came in search of me; he was exhausted and the glamour failed." Legolas' face crumpled, "We had quite the argument about it – I was very nasty to him…" the Prince shook with sobs again and Thranduil's heart clenched.

"I  _am_  sorry  _Las-nin_ , I know it means nothing at all now but I never meant this to be some on-going deception. I was honestly distracted at first and then too craven and selfish to risk causing an argument or rift with you. Then as the years went by I guess I just convinced myself you had figured it out; what with the way Faervel had become your over-protective shadow."

"I never thought anything of it," Legolas snuffled sadly. "He was a great warrior so I never questioned his promotions and I simply thought it good luck we had been placed into the same troop twice. As for his over protectiveness he was like that with Tauriel and Aeglosson too – I did not think he aimed it specifically at me only – just that he was the 'mother hen' type."

Thranduil pressed a soft kiss just under his son's bandaged brow, "I took the easy way out in this and in the end it has caused you a great deal of hurt and for that I am sorry  _ion-nin_. As I said it was never my intention to have a centuries-long deception going nor did I want to cause a rift between you and Faervel. All I wanted was to  _not_  have an argument with my son." Thranduil tilted Legolas' head so that his son was looking him in the eye, "I was truly convinced that you had figured it out; had I known you were still in the dark I  _would_  have told you. Please believe me  _Lasseg_ , I did not specifically go out of my way to lie to you – no matter how it seems."

Legolas sniffed again, "You intentionally neglected to tell me – is that not the same as lying to me?"

Thranduil held back a pained sigh at the tremor and sadness in his son's voice, "I guess it is. Still – I want you to know my intent was not malicious, misguided by a father's selfish love perhaps but never malicious. I know I cannot turn back time and undo what has been done but I am here for you now – whatever you may need. I am here and I will do my best to never fail you so again." Thranduil paused a moment as he studied the grief and sadness so plainly visible in Legolas' eyes. "You should put your argument with Faervel from your mind – he will have forgiven you – you know this. Faervel was not one for grudges."

"I…I was very mean to him  _Adar…_ you do not understand…I was very angry…"

"I understand well enough  _ion-nin_ ; I too am oft given to the legendary temper of the House of Oropher. Yet as I say Faervel would not have held your pique against you – he would've understood your surprise and anger well enough and forgiven you. Truly  _Las-nin_  you were blessed with his friendship and love. You should feel guilt over your argument with Faervel no longer – he was ever indulgent with you and I know he passed onto  _Mandos_  with no grievance against you."

Legolas blew out a heavy breath, "I know…for I…I held him…as he died and he told me as much…told me not to despair nor take on any guilt for what happened to him…but I do not see how I am supposed to do that when it is my fault that he now resides in  _Mandos_." Legolas whispered his next words almost choking on his grief, "had Vel not come after me he would still be alive."

"Do you really think Faervel would have stayed put willingly whilst you were missing – even if he had not been your bodyguard?" Thranduil gave a soft snort, "I had to command Tauriel and Aeglosson to remain at the palace and even set watches on them for I knew they would defy me given the slightest chance and I know Faervel would have been exactly the same bodyguard or no. He did not follow after you because of a pledge – but simply because of his love and friendship for you. Think on that and then you may find that it is not so difficult to do as Faervel has asked and relinquish your guilt."

Thranduil kissed the top of his son's head. He could feel Elrond's presence outside the chamber along with those of his son's and the older blonde supposed it was time for Legolas to have his medicines and to have his bandages checked on and changed.

The Elven King forced a smile to his face, "Your  _Peredhil_  nurses await  _Lasseg_  – shall I let them in?"

Abruptly Legolas stiffened against him and Thranduil frowned in concern yet before he could say anything Legolas gave a weary sigh and pressed into Thranduil's embrace a little more firmly.

"Can you not tell them I have fallen back asleep  _Adar_? I am weary of being fussed with and prodded at and I…well I am simply exhausted – I cannot deal with them right now."

Thranduil frowned all the harder at Legolas' admission for he knew that the vast majority of his son's weariness was likely emotional and due to the conversation they had just had.

The Elven King rested his cheek atop his son's head, "I know you have no fondness for healers and their procedures  _ion-nin_  but nevertheless I cannot turn Lord Elrond away – his treatment no matter how painful or uncomfortable just now is needed if you are ever to get well enough to return home again."

Legolas drooped all the more and gave a small shake of his head, "I am so tired of it all  _Adar_ ; so very, very tired of everything – I really don't think I can bear a minute more. I'm so exhausted."

Thranduil cradled his son and begun to rock him ever so slightly, "I am so sorry for all you have had to bear and still must bear  _Lasseg_  – truly I am. I promise you I will do all in my power to help you now and more than that I promise I will do even better to protect you in the future. I will do all that I can to see that you never have to suffer thus again."

The older blonde kissed the top of Legolas' head once more, "I am so, so, very sorry for all of this  _ion-nin_ ; and you have my deepest sympathies in regards to Faervel – I know how dear he was to you. I hope in time you will come to forgive me for never revealing his true occupation to you."

Legolas felt guilt prick at him as he listened to his  _Adar's_  groveling apologies (for Thranduil groveled to none); he  _was_  angry with his _Adar_  over the deception yet at the same time he had perhaps been a bit harsh with his accusations. After all as Thranduil had pointed out bodyguard or no it was highly likely Faervel would have come after him anyway – it was not as though Thranduil had deliberately sent Faervel to his death after all. How could his  _Adar_ have known such a tragedy would have occurred? Was it not really  _his_  fault for not making sure all the orcs he and Faervel had faced down were truly dead? It was  _he_  who had failed in this most basic of training not his  _Adar._  And yet the deception – whether willful or not still stung.

Legolas sighed, his thoughts were going round in circles and were completely exhausting him. At this point it hurt to think and the thought of letting the  _Peredhil_  in to poke at him and cause him further pain was not appealing just then. Yet his  _Adar_ was right – he'd never get any better and get past this stage if he did not do as he must now.

The Prince let himself enjoy the safety and comfort his  _Adar's_ gently rocking arms for one long moment more before he finally made a weak pull away from Thranduil.

"You are right  _Adar_ ; I'll never get any better unless I endure my healers for a while longer – you may send them in."

Thranduil nodded and gently disentangled himself from Legolas, "Right. Would you like me to remain or shall I wait outside? Perhaps fetch you something to eat?"

Legolas thought of the myriad of cuts, welts and bruises that adorned his person – it would perhaps be best if his  _Adar_  remained in ignorance of just how much he had suffered. Besides Legolas could feel the now familiar sense of shame spread through him at the thought of his  _Adar_  seeing his weakness laid bare.

The younger blonde glanced up as his father stood up from the bed and straightened, "Ah…you do not need to stay – you can wait outside."

Thranduil gave a terse nod of his head and a flicker of some emotion that passed across his face too quickly for Legolas to identify made the Prince speak up again.

"It is not because of the issue with Faervel or anything like that  _Adar;_  you have asked for my forgiveness and though I am still hurt right now I will forgive you in time. Indeed I believe I have already begun to do so for I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt me. It is just…I am…I just…it is difficult for me  _Adar._ " Legolas blew a frustrated breath as he struggled to explain himself, "I…I can barely stand letting  _Hir_ Elrond and the  _Elrondionnath_  see me in such a state. I do not think I could bear to have to face you also…it…it shames me  _Adar._ "

Thranduil was there in an instant and pressed another firm kiss to Legolas' head, "You have naught to be ashamed of Legolas – do you understand me?  _None_  of this – no matter what happened or what was done to you is cause for you to feel shame. Please… _please_  put that emotion far from you. You have nothing to be ashamed of – you will forever remain Prince Legolas Thranduilion of the Royal House of Oropher, Captain of an Elite Guard troop and my indomitable son." Thranduil angled Legolas face so he could look him in the eyes, "You need  _never_  be ashamed of  _anything_."

Legolas felt a new strength from his  _Adar's_ fierce words of love and he gave what felt like his first genuine smile in weeks. " _Le fael Adar._ "

Thranduil gave a firm nod and one more kiss before he swept from the room to see Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan and a freshly bathed Aglardaer waiting on a bench outside.

"I am sorry if you have waited overlong Elrond – Legolas is ready for you all now."

"Do not be silly – I would never begrudge you your reunion with your son however long it may have taken. Will you not remain with Legolas as we check him over?"

"Nay – I will fetch him something to eat and return once you are done with him."

Elrond waved a hand airily, "Oh you needn't bother yourself Thranduil – I will have a servant fetch his meal up once we are ready."

Thranduil shook his head, "With all due respect Elrond, Legolas looks like a starved urchin – Noldor food clearly doesn't sit well with him – I will see to his meal myself. If you'd be so kind as to point me to the kitchens…"

Elrond considered sending Elladan to show the blonde the way but one glance at Thranduil told him the Elven King was silently seething and he saw no reason to subject his eldest to Thranduil's wrath.

"Follow this corridor back to the main staircase, go down it and once you are in the main hall take the fourth doorway on your left. There will be servants milling around who will be happy to offer further assistance should you need it."

Thranduil gave a jerky nod of thanks and started off down the corridor anger in every step.

Aglardaer threw Elrond a weak smile before he too started swiftly down the corridor to catch up to his King. Elrond had warned him of Legolas' condition but he had half been hoping that the  _Peredhil_  Lord had exaggerated in that way that healers sometimes did. Evidently it was not so – judging by the stony expression with which Thranduil had exited every word Elrond had spoken was true.

With a few more hurried steps Aglardaer pulled into stride with Thranduil, "Is he truly that badly off?"

Thranduil said nothing for a moment and Aglardaer watched his friend physically unclench his teeth before he ground out, "I will kill those  _edain_  regardless of whatever decision the council has come to. They deserve no mercy from me. I  _will_  see them dead."

**~o~**

Aglardaer watched with no small amount of trepidation as his King stormed into Elrond's kitchens and caused all the staff to pause in their work to gape at the two strange Sindar so suddenly in their midst.

The Crown Commander needn't have feared Thranduil's behaviour toward the staff however, for as per usual his friend was naught but polite to the brave serving  _elleth_  who approached him. Aglardaer positioned himself to the side against a wall as he did his best to be as unobtrusive as possible, and watched as Thranduil reeled off a list of ingredients to the  _elleth_  before him in a polite manner albeit with a flat and toneless voice. That tone of voice or rather lack of it in his friend saw Aglardaer straighten and move to Thranduil's side as the  _elleth_ departed with a quick curtsey before she disappeared into a well-stocked larder.

"You are scaring Elrond's staff," Aglardaer hissed at his King even as he gave what he hoped was a warm and unthreatening smile toward two rather young  _ellyn_  who kept throwing them nervous looks.

Thranduil turned toward him, his face an inscrutable mask to any who did not know him as well as Aglardaer, "I was polite. I see no issue with my behaviour."

The words were clipped, each syllable cut off to make Thranduil's thick and proper Sindar accent stand out even more and was a sign to Aglardaer just how angry Thranduil still was. His King had seethed and stomped his way through Elrond's halls as they had made for the kitchens and it had clearly done little in ways of easing Thranduil's fury.

Aglardaer held back a sigh, "I did not say you were rude – I said you are scaring Elrond's very Noldor staff who are not used to wild wood elves who go about leaking murderous intent from their every pore." Aglardaer dropped his voice to an even lower whisper, " _Valar_  Thranduil, likely some of these have never even seen a sword – so can you at least try to reign in your killing intent whilst we are here? Save it for the  _egyl edain_ when we get back home."

For the very aura of Thranduil's homicidal anger and the power behind it had filled the room and Aglardaer was sure that was what was responsible for the sudden uneasy hush that had filled the space.

Thranduil scowled at him and seemed about to give some sharp retort when the serving  _elleth_  appeared again heavy laden with a tray filled with Thranduil's requests and Aglardaer watched as his friend forced a smile to his face as he thanked the  _elleth_  all whilst the room slowly cleared of the Elven King's murderous intent.

Aglardaer clapped him on the back with an approving smile before he leaned over Thranduil's shoulder to better get a look at the ingredients his friend had requested.

Immediately Aglardaer saw what Thranduil intended to make and he could not stop the frown that worked itself onto his features and he found himself parroting his earlier words, "Is Legolas really that badly off?"

Thranduil said nothing and simply began to dice the berries before him before dropping them into the large mortar to his side.

Aglardaer sighed, he knew this recipe – a common one among Woodland warriors who had been grievously injured and found themselves unable to eat or abide solid foods. Twas a thick and nearly smooth drink prepared with berries – any kind would do – a leafy green for the added protein, minerals and fibre and just a drop of milk and honey to thin and sweeten. A nutritious meal in the form of an easy to swallow drink that was made for the truly badly off.

Aglardaer watched grim-faced as Thranduil continued his mixing and preparation before finally pouring the finished drink into such a small glass that Aglardaer's frown deepened further.

Thranduil rid himself of the trimmings and his tools and turned small glass in hand, "Perhaps now you understand why I had such a hard time containing my fury. Come, let us return – Elrond will be finishing up with Legolas shortly and I want him to have all of this." Sadness clouded the King's eyes for but a twinkling of a moment, "He is badly in need of it; the look of a starved waif is not one my son ought to wear any longer."

With a nod of thanks Thranduil swept from the room of still stunned Noldor and after his own quick thanks to the  _elleth_  that had helped his King Aglardaer followed after friend; mind carefully pulling apart and analysing everything Elrond had told him.

Yes – he could suddenly understand Thranduil's earlier pique with all clarity as he now fought with himself to keep his own deadly ire suppressed.

**~o~**

Legolas did his best not to wince as Lord Elrond began to gently remove his old bandages from his still inflamed shoulder. Despite having suffered through this procedure many times on his own since arriving in Imladris Legolas found himself tense, anxiety sweeping through him at the absence of his  _Adar._  It was foolish to feel that way he knew – especially when he had been the one to ask Thranduil to leave and yet he could not shake the feeling. Couldn't allow himself to relax even with Elrohir and Elladan doing their best to distract him; Legolas found his eyes kept wandering to the door through which his  _Adar_  had swept as though if he stared hard enough he would be able to see through it.

"Please try to relax  _Ernil_ ," Lord Elrond's voice broke into Legolas' thoughts. "I know this is painful but I need you a little more relaxed than this or this will hurt you even more."

Legolas drew in a deep shaky breath and tried to relax as asked yet the tension within him refused to dissipate. He would feel better with his  _Adar_  by his side – despite their disagreement over Faervel and the lingering shame Legolas felt over what had happened to him – his  _Adar's_ looming presence and reassuring words filled with love had made him feel safe in a way he hadn't even realised he hadn't been feeling even whilst in Lord Elrond's own home.

With his  _Adar_ in the room Legolas knew he'd be able to relax as requested. " _Hir_  Elrond would you be able to ask my  _Adar_ to come back in? I think I'd feel more at ease if he were here after all."

"I'm sorry Legolas your  _Adar_ does not wait outside but has gone down to the kitchens."

"To the kitchens?"

Elrond gave a soft smile, "Yes, he doesn't think 'Noldor food' agrees with you and has gone to prepare and fetch you something to eat himself."

"You'll have to forgive him  _Hir_ Elrond – there is naught wrong with your food as I've said before – I just haven't any appetite whatsoever."

Legolas forced a smile of his own to his face in an attempt to hide the disappointment and sense of unease that had crept over him upon hearing his Adar was nowhere in the vicinity.

Elrond however did not miss it and gave the Prince a bright, reassuring smile, "He will return soon – by the time we are done here he'll likely be ready and impatiently waiting at the door."

Legolas nodded and gave himself a mental shake; he could sit through his treatment on his own as he had done many times already. He did not need his  _Adar_  here beside him – and besides he had the twins with him. Still even as he did his best to follow and contribute to the debate the twins were having Legolas could not quite suppress the anxiety and longing that his  _Adar's_  absence had left him with.

Legolas hadn't realised it but he'd been supressing his homesickness and loneliness much more ruthlessly than he'd thought and now that he'd finally had a taste of the familiar comforts of family and home he was loathe to part with it. He felt almost sick with nerves at the thought of being left on his own – a stranger in a foreign land – once again. He'd been alone for so long, cut off and isolated from all he was familiar and comfortable with; apart from those he held dear and loved and whom made him feel safe for such a long time that even this brief absence was now causing him to feel fretful and anxious.

It was silly to feel thus he knew, but Legolas couldn't shake the feeling and kept anxious eyes upon the door even as he gave half-hearted answers and replies to the twins, as he allowed Lord Elrond to poke, prod, clean and re-bandage – desperate to see his  _Adar_  and all the safety and comfort he represented once more.

**~o~**

Elrohir tied off the long braid he had pulled Legolas' hair into and tapped the Prince's good shoulder allowing him to settle back down into the nest of pillows that kept him easily propped up.

"There you are finished for today," Elrohir gave Legolas a smile which the blonde returned half-heartedly and Elrohir resisted the urge to sigh. Legolas had been as tense as when they had first met him all evening and he could not quite understand it. They had gotten to know each other fairly well and though Legolas was still not overly keen on being excessively touched and handled Elrohir thought that they had made enough progress that Legolas could be relaxed around them – even during his treatment.

The sable haired twins' musings were interrupted by a light knock at the door along with the Elven King's deep baritone and Elrohir watched how the tension and anxiety that had been present in Legolas dissipated as though it had never been.

"May I come in Elrond?"

"Yes  _Adar_  come in we are finished," the relief in Legolas' words were clear and Elrohir could not help but smile at the Prince's eagerness to see his  _Adar_ again.

Elrohir could hardly fault him – Legolas had been through a great ordeal and had been through a lot of it on his own – he could not be blamed for clinging to the comfort now available to him in the form of his father.

The Elven King entered, gave his  _Adar_ a quick thanks which Elrond waved aside before the older blonde was at Legolas' side – eyes anxiously checking him over.

"Are you well  _ion-nin_?"

"Aye  _Adar_ , I am now that my treatment and medicines are done with for today." Legolas threw a cheeky grin at Lord Elrond and Elrohir felt relief at seeing Legolas be more himself again. He had honestly been worried that the Prince was about to take another turn for the worse.

"Good," Thranduil beamed though there was still some unnamed emotion that lurked in his eyes as he continued to run his eyes over every inch of his son that he could see. "I've brought your dinner."

Legolas blanched slightly, "I am not really hungry  _Adar_ I…"

Thranduil held up a hand to halt Legolas mid flow, "You  _will_  have this Legolas. You must, or the treatment which you claim to hate so much will never be over and done with. It is all very well Elrond keeping your bandages clean and feeding you numerous medicines but your  _hröa_  needs sustenance to work alongside Elrond's treatment else it shall all be for naught."

"But the very  _thought_  of food  _Adar_ it makes me feel so, so ill. I am not being deliberately difficult."

Thranduil settled himself into the bedside chair at Legolas' side and gave a small snort, "Well for once I will believe that," Thranduil smirked. "That is why I have made this." Thranduil produced a small glass with a thick, dark pink liquid inside and placed it in his son's good hand. "Drink."

"All of it?"

"There is hardly anything there  _Las-nin._  Drink."

Elrohir watched in fascination and some small frustration as Legolas obediently begun to slowly and delicately sip at the drink. He put on a mock pout as he looked to the Elven King, "That is just not fair –  _Adar_ and I have laboured long and hard to get him to drink even that much water and have gotten nowhere."

Thranduil threw a stern glance toward his son who pretended not to notice before he faced Elrohir, "Legolas is a difficult patient so I am not surprised he has given you so much trouble. But you can worry no longer; whilst I am here Legolas  _will_  eat or drink everything put before him. Is that not correct  _ion-nin_?"

"Mhmm," Legolas mumbled and nodded his agreement still much to the amazement and mock grievance of Elrohir.

"So is it just your  _Adar_  whom you will heed in matters of your health or is it simply that you disliked what we put before you? Does 'Noldo food' truly not suit a Woodland Prince?" Elrohir teased.

Legolas smirked and said nothing as he continued his slow sips and Thranduil shook his head at his son's antics.

"As I've said Legolas is simply a most difficult and rather irritating patient – however I have long since perfected the art of getting him to eat and drink as he should."

"Oh pray do tell," Elrohir drawled amusement clearly dancing in his eyes.

"Well tis quite simple really – I merely death glare him into submission. Should that not work the next step is to promise him an extended stay in the healing wards strapped to his bed and under a full guard – for his own good of course…you know to make one hundred percent sure he is well."

" _Adar_ ," Legolas turned scandalised eyes upon his father and Elrohir snickered.

"I will bear that in mind  _Aran-nin._ "

Legolas gave a small, haughty sniff, "No offense Elrohir but I think you will have to skip straight to step two – no one can out glare  _Adar._ Truly, once you have seen his 'I-am-your-King-and-Father-and-you-will-obey-me' glare even the glare of dragon will not phase you."

The two collapsed into sniggers, Elladan rolling his eyes heartily at them before Thranduil heaved a great sigh, "Your son is a terrible influence Elrond; Legolas needs no further aid in becoming incorrigible."

"I think you will find Thranduil that Legolas is the chief instigator in any and all mischief to be found here."

The two leaders shared a glance and the first real smile in centuries before Elrond gave his hands a clap.

"Right Elrohir let Legolas finish up his drink for this is the most he has had since he's been here and I do not want you making him giddy with laughter and cause him to throw it all up again."

"I would never  _Adar_."

"Yes  _Hir-nin_  you needn't worry – I have finished see?" Legolas held the now empty glass aloft to the mighty approval of all in the room.

"Good," Thranduil removed the glass from his son, "you will perhaps manage a bigger glass on the morrow."

"What was it by the way  _Aran-nin_? No offense but it looked a lot less appetising than much of what we have been attempting to get Legolas to eat and yet he has drank it all."

Elrohir was curious over the dark pink drink Thranduil had presented his son and could tell from the look in his  _Adar's_  eyes that Elrond was too. Who knew, perhaps it would be something they could implement in their own healing regimens.

"Tis a thickened drink we feed our warriors and indeed any who has suffered any grievous ailment or injury that has caused them to be unable to abide solid foods." A dark look crossed Thranduil's face for a second before it disappeared, "Berries are squashed together into juice – though we do leave some pulp to get the stomach used to solids again – before we add a leafy green high in protein and fibre. We usually use spinach, arugula or dandelion but in this I have used kale since that is what was available here; the berries were strawberry and raspberry which gave the drink its deep pink colour. A little honey is oft added to sweeten and the drink is thinned out with milk or sometimes water depending on the needs of the patient."

"We tend to use water when out in the field, "Legolas piped up, "for milk is hard to come by when on patrol."

"You know how to make this drink too?" Elrohir questioned the Prince and the younger blonde nodded.

"All warriors of the realm – whether fully trained in the healing arts or not are taught how to prepare this drink should aught go ill when on a mission or on patrol and likely all have had to drink it at some point or another." The Prince gave a sleepy smile, "Despite the dark, ominous colour caused by the leaves in the mixture the drink tastes rather nice. One of very few things which are good for you which does not taste awful."

Legolas' words finished on a yawn and Thranduil's eyes were instantly intensely focused back upon his son.

"I think it is best if you take some more rest now  _ion-nin_."

Legolas looked set to protest but Elrohir held up a hand, "Nay Legolas – your  _Adar_ is right – take some rest and don't exhaust yourself. Especially not after you've  _finally_  had some sustenance," Elrohir stuck his tongue out at the pouting Prince. "Trust me the medicines, the drink and some rest will all combine and do you a world of good. Ladan and I will be back to see you on the morrow."

"Fine…" a great yawn nearly split Legolas' face clean in two, "on the morrow."

Elrohir stood to join Elladan who was already at the door and paused for a moment to watch how Thranduil with the help of his  _Adar_  layered the heavy blankets back upon an unresisting and now heavily blinking Legolas. The Prince looked entirely relaxed and a lot less anxious than he usually was when it came time for him to retire for the night and Elrohir hoped that the comfort of knowing his father watched over him as he slept would allow for Legolas to have one night free of nightmares.

" _Hodo vae Ernil_ ," Elrohir gave a fond wave before he turned his back on the scene and followed his twin out of the door.

**~o~**

Elrond exited the Prince's private room and was surprised to see Aglardaer idly polishing one of the many daggers scattered on the bench next to him.

"Have you been sat here all this time Aglardaer? I am sorry I did not know you intended to visit with the Prince – though he has not been keen on visitors and prepares for sleep now."

Aglardaer waved away the apologies with his knife, "I did not intend to visit Legolas – I know my Prince is never keen on having visitors when he lies upon his sick bed."

Elrond frowned in confusion at the Commander, "Thranduil will be spending the night with Legolas if it is him you wait for."

"I would expect nothing else." Aglardaer looked up for the first time from his now shiny dagger, "Sorry Elrond I need no assistance, I simply wait upon them both should either have a need of me."

"I believe they will both sleep now or at least try to – will you not do the same? I can walk you to your quarters if you like?"

" _Avaro naeth_  Elrond,  _Im maer_ ; truly I will be fine just here – this is my duty – to watch over the Royal family and I think I will do so best from here…at least for this first night. Should either need anything Thranduil knows he has but to call. So I thank you for your concern but I'll not be seeking my bed this night."

"As you wish it Aglardaer," the  _Peredhil_  Lord gave the silver haired  _ellon_ before him a firm squeeze of the shoulder, "Should  _you_  require anything yourself please know my door is open to you."

" _Le athae_  Elrond. Your kindness to us all is appreciated."

Elrond nodded and the  _Peredhil_  made his way down the corridors light steps fading into nothingness.

Aglardaer took up another knife and begun to polish anew. After all he had discovered of his Prince's condition and seen how that had directly affected Thranduil Aglardaer had no intention of leaving their sides – not just yet. Not until he could be sure that all would be well once more with the ones he considered as precious as his own family.

**~o~**

"Sleep  _Las-nin_." Thranduil glanced over at his son who seemed to be trying his best not to succumb to the sleep that so clearly tugged at him.

"I…I am…" Legolas gave a small sigh before falling silent, shame not allowing him to complete the sentence.

"You are what  _ion-nin_? Do you require anything? What do you need so you can rest easily?" Thranduil pushed back a strand of hair that had come lose from the braid Elrohir had plaited his son's hair into.

"I…I am…I am scared of sleeping…I…I suffer nightmares so vivid, so real – it is as though I am there again and…and everything is happening anew. I…I do not want that…I just want to sleep but sleep brings with it such…such terror, such pain and loss all over again." Legolas sighed keeping his eyes firmly down and focussed upon the heavy blankets which swaddled him, "I am loath to close my eyes  _Adar._ "

Thranduil once again quickly smote the anger that rose in his breast in the face of his son's clear anguish and gave Legolas' cheek a gentle kiss. "I am here  _ion-nin_ ; I am here as are the entirety of my Elite, Crown Commander Aglardaer and Bôr. Lord Elrond and the  _Elrondionnath_  too look out for you and believe me  _Lasseg_  when I say you are perfectly and completely safe here. Naught can touch you and you have absolutely nothing to fear."

Thranduil smoothed his son's blankets and kissed his cheek again, "You are surrounded on all sides by the love of those who care for you  _Las-nin_. Let your mind focus on that and trust yourself to sleep." The Elven King canted a knowing glance at both the door to Legolas' room as well as the maple just visible outside his window, "We all stand watch over you this night – you are guarded on every side. So let your mind focus on and trust that fact and sleep. Go to sleep  _ion-nin_. I will be here in the morning."

Legolas did as asked and let his mind focus on the strength and care of the all the ones his  _Adar_  had listed as protecting him and felt peace as it begun to slowly creep over him. More than that he was very aware of his  _Adar's_  solid, safe and loving presence in the room beside him ready to keep all harm and fear – both imaginary and real – far, far from him.

With that knowledge Legolas found himself drifting off into a deep and nightmare free sleep for the first time in weeks.

He was found, he was safe and his  _Adar_  was right by his side – maybe, just maybe he would be able to get through this ordeal after all.

**TBC.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peredhil – Half Elven
> 
> Ellon/Ellyn – Male Elf/Elves
> 
> Adar – Father
> 
> Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas / Lasseg-nin – My Little Leaf
> 
> Ŷn yrch – Sons (ŷn is plural of ion) of Orcs (Yrch is plural of orch)
> 
> Annin - Literally: For me – Sindarin version of Please
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) Warriors
> 
> Hröa – Body (Quenya)
> 
> Nethryn – Weavers
> 
> Aran-nin - My King
> 
> Penneth – Young One
> 
> Anor – Sun
> 
> Ion-nin – My Son
> 
> Sîdh – Peace
> 
> Fëa – Soul (Quenya)
> 
> Las-nin – My Leaf
> 
> Naneth - Mother
> 
> Gwedyr – Sworn Brother
> 
> Maethron – Warrior
> 
> Hir / Hir-nin – Lord / My Lord
> 
> Elrondionnath – Sons of Elrond
> 
> Le fael – Literally: You are generous – Sindarin version of Thank you
> 
> Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men
> 
> Elleth - Female elf
> 
> Egyl Edain – Evil Men
> 
> Ernil – Prince
> 
> Hodo vae - Rest well
> 
> Avaro naeth Elrond Im maer – Don't worry Elrond I'm fine/well
> 
> Le athae – Literally: You are/were helpful/kind - Sindarin version of Thank you
> 
> A/N: Hope you've enjoyed the double post do drop me a line and let me know

**Author's Note:**

> Dirnaith – Military (Troop/Guard)
> 
> Maethyr – (plural) warriors
> 
> Hest – Captain
> 
> Manen le? – How are you
> 
> Avaro naeth Im maer – Don't worry I'm fine/well
> 
> Morchant – Legolas' horse- Sindarin name meaning Shadow


End file.
